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<\/a>.<\/p>\nTequila Sunset’, by\u00a0Hugh Thomson<\/p>\n
published by the Financial Times<\/em><\/a><\/p>\n Hugh Thomson goes in search of the true tequila experience<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n .<\/p>\n .<\/p>\n .<\/p>\n .<\/p>\n Tequila used to be a real man\u2019s drink \u2013 straight up and raw;\u00a0 the only accompaniment allowed was a pinch of lime and salt.\u00a0 One of PG Wodehouse\u2019s pre-war characters ordered \u2018a shot of that Mexican drink that they call \u2013 no, I\u2019ve forgotten the name, but it lifts the top of your head off\u2019.<\/p>\n For many years in the States it was considered much like cheap vodka in the UK, a quick way for students to get drunk cheaply.\u00a0 But some astute brand positioning has changed \u00a0that, along with the advent of the ubiquitous Margarita \u2013 to the point where it is almost in danger of becoming effete.\u00a0 On a recent visit, one hotel menu in Cancun offered me a\u00a0 \u2018Chocolate Tequila\u2019\u00a0 which apparently \u2018dazzles the tastebuds with 2 ounces of reposado<\/em> tequila,\u00a0 1 ounce of cr\u00e8me de cacao and a dash of Hersheys chocolate syrup, stirred and served straight up in a stemmed glass topped with a cherry\u2019.\u00a0 No thank you.<\/p>\n I first travelled through Mexico in the late 1970s when the stirrings of such adulteration were only just beginning.\u00a0 My journey began on the Tex-Mex border where I was buying an American car to take me right through the country, with the naive and youthful hope that I\u2019d be able to sell it further down in Central America.<\/p>\n It wasn\u2019t until I\u2019d bought the car \u2013 a classic Oldsmobile 98 \u2013 and driven further south to the state of Jalisco and the eponymous town of Tequila that I began to see the drink treated with anything like the respect it deserved, and by the people who made it.\u00a0 An old man in a liquor store taught me to check that any bottle stated it was \u2018pure 100% agave\u2019 and to tell the difference between the tequila of \u2018The Valley\u2019 and that of \u2018the Highlands\u2019 \u2013 that of the Highlands having a more flowery taste and smell.\u00a0 I watched the blue agave plants being harvested, the spiky stems cut off and the heart split open almost like a pineapple.\u00a0 The better distilleries were those that bothered to remove the bitter pith at the centre of the plant before distillation.<\/p>\n .<\/p>\n By the time I got down to Mexico City, I had run up a formidable bar and petrol bill, so found some much needed work at a development bank as a translator and all-round gopher.\u00a0 The boss\u2019s name was Julio.\u00a0 The first day, Julio took me out to lunch and explained the principles behind doing successful business in Mexico.\u00a0 Everyone worked from ten until two.\u00a0 An extended lunch would then go on for hours, sometimes until five in the afternoon, before everybody headed back to the office until eight in the evening.<\/p>\n Lunch was the real work.\u00a0 \u2018Our business depends largely on trust,\u2019 said Julio.\u00a0 \u2018The idea is that Mexicans can only trust one another when they are so drunk they are almost blind.\u00a0 So in this bank we always drink Tequila Oils before we begin any negotiations.\u2019<\/p>\n .<\/p>\n Julio gave an order to the waiter.\u00a0 He came back with a double tequila mixed with tomato juice.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t like the look of this (tomatoes belonged with vodka), but it still seemed plausible.\u00a0 Then Julio took a large tablespoon of the habanero<\/em> chilli sauce that was on the table and ostentatiously mixed it in.\u00a0 Other diners were beginning to watch him.\u00a0 He took a bottle of black Maggi out of his briefcase.\u00a0 I had seen the stuff in European restaurants, a sharp, aromatic version of HP sauce.\u00a0 He stirred enough in to turn the drink black and viscous.\u00a0 It did indeed look like oil.<\/p>\n \u2018Try this, Hugito<\/em>.\u00a0 Just as the alcohol hits your stomach, the chilli will as well and blow it back into your brain.\u00a0 It will take your head off.\u2019\u00a0 And it did.<\/p>\n .<\/p>\n So began a memorable set of serious lunches.\u00a0 Julio and I would turn up at a factory, fence around the issues with the bosses and then go to one of the many wonderful restaurants in the city.\u00a0 We would order dried ants in chocolate, or mole poblano,<\/em> the great national dish of dried chillies, turkey and chocolate (\u2018\u00a1Ric\u00edsimo!<\/em>\u2019 the Ma\u00eetre D’ would murmur appreciatively as he took our order).\u00a0 Julio would get out his mixing kit, line up three or four of his Tequila Oils in front of everyone at the table and within half an hour we would all be friends for life, and have a sensibly re-negotiated loan.<\/p>\n Julio had one favourite phrase whenever we finished off a negotiation:\u00a0 \u2018Hey,\u2019 he would say, spreading his arms wide and laughing, \u2018it\u2019s not my money, after all.\u2019\u00a0 Which would be a cue for drinks all round.<\/p>\n After a fabulous journey that took me to the wilder shores of Mexico,\u00a0 I finally arrived in Belize, where I planned to sell the car;\u00a0 by now I was drinking more beer than tequila, which had to be imported and was expensive.\u00a0 In the first town I came to, Corozal, I went straight into the local bar to see if I could find a buyer for the car.\u00a0 The barman was called Roach, and was in his fifties, with deep black skin and a grizzled look.\u00a0 I told him about my long journey down from the Texas border.\u00a0 \u2018So what do you think – can I sell it?\u2019<\/p>\n Roach looked at me as if I were stupid.\u00a0 \u2018Of course.\u00a0 You\u2019ve come to the right place.\u00a0 Everybody in Belize wants an American car.\u00a0 Might even want it myself.\u00a0 Where is it?\u2019<\/p>\n .<\/p>\nFinding the right (and cheapest) car in Ciudad Juarez – now the city with the largest crime rate in Mexico, mostly drug-fuelled, but back then merely insalubrious \u2013 meant a lot of meetings in bars.\u00a0 The local speciality was the \u2018bandera\u2019 <\/em>or \u2018flag\u2019, where the barman would line up three shot glasses of red, white and green for the Mexican colours:\u00a0\u00a0 sangrita, neat tequila and a lime chaser respectively. The tequila came in cheap plastic bottles and purity left a great deal to be desired \u2013 but then it was knocked back so fast no one noticed .<\/p>\n<\/a>By now, I prided myself on having drunk tequila most of the ways it came – from classic Margaritas to the dark Conmemorativo\u00a0 that looked more like whisky.\u00a0 I had even sunk to the depths of the abominable Sunrise and all sorts of sugary variations.\u00a0 But I had never heard of a Tequila Oil.\u00a0 It had apparently been named in honour of Mexico\u2019s petroleum boom.<\/p>\n