In All the Pretty Horses, one of Cormac McCarthy’s crepuscular Western novels, the storyline is set in motion by a few gulps of the Mexican spirit called sotol: By evening they’d bought a canteenful of sotol and were passing it back and forth among themselves as they rode and soon they were quite drunk. I’ll give you the Cliff’s Notes: three Texas boys are riding south of the border when they buy said canteen from a caravan of migrant traders. Predictably, one of the boys lurches off the side of his horse, which runs away and is collected by bandits. The youngsters go on to find trouble, fall in love, go to jail and barely make it back alive.
Thankfully, you need neither be an expat nor fugitive to lasso yourself a bottle of one of the little-known Mexican liquors making their way north. Beginning this weekend, sotol and bacanora are the latest spirits in the mezcal family tree to find their way to St. Louis.
You know the adage: All tequilas are mezcal, just not the other way around. Or, more precisely, mezcal is the top tier of the agave-based spirits. “It’s the iconic spirit of Mexico,” said Craig Stancliff of Pueblo Partners, which imports small-batch mezcal varieties to the United States. “They’ve literally been distilling (it) in Mexico, fermenting, for a thousand years.”
The narrative of bacanora is one of class struggle and political repression. Named for the Mexican town of Bacanora in the western state of Sonora, the production and sale of Sonoran mezcal was outlawed in 1910 during a land dispute with the government. The ban remained on the books until 1992, when bacanora production became legitimate again. Several years later, it received an official denomination of origin (think Neapolitan pizza or Champagne). In the U.S., Pueblo’s Cielo Rojo bacanora debuted in Tucson, Arizona, and several other brands have made sporadic appearances in avant-garde bar programs from New York to San Diego.
The ghostly, aromatic Cielo Rojo is astonishingly smooth, subtle on the agave and smoky – like a hybrid of mezcal and Islay single malt. According to Stancliff, that’s the flavor of the agave piña (core) at work, the result of a small batch, artisanal production process by a single family of Sonoran mescaleros. The 8- to 10-year-old agave plants (known as espadin) are trimmed, hauled away by burro, roasted, shredded and crushed with millstones, fermented and distilled. Espadin piñas are harvested wild, meaning their flavor is chiefly dependent on the landscape.
“It’s terroir-based … that’s the big thing,” Stancliff said. “It’s determined by the dirt the plant’s stuck in.”
Look next door to the state of Chihuahua to find sotol, a close cousin to mezcal. Instead of agave, distillers use its relative, the desert spoon plant. When fermented and distilled, desert spoon registers on the palate as a near-smokeless, grassier mezcal cousin. Though it’s very agreeably sipped neat, sotol’s floral notes and thick mouthfeel make it an ideal base spirit for cocktails.
Pueblo’s label, Ocho Cientos, pays homage to the 800-year history of sotol production. Also managed by a single family – working under the constant threat of cartel violence in the region – the desert spoon is harvested over 45,000 acres and aged in pine vats before distillation. The final product smacks of bisongrass vodka – with a more robust, peppery character. We sipped (and thoroughly enjoyed) Ocho Cientos Blanco, though resposado and añejo varieties, aged in George Dickel whiskey barrels, are also available.
Just remember not to drink and ride.
Cielo Rojo bacanora and Ocho Cientos sotol, distributed through Lohr Distributing Co., can be ordered from Randall’s Wine & Spirits and The Wine & Cheese Place.
This article appears in November 2014.