The Allures Of Agave

A Filipino still at work in Oaxaca

When whiskey fever first took over the industry, a secondary fever for barrel aging came with it. It was determined that we all loved whiskey because it was aged in oak. The longer it was aged in oak, the more we liked it. Hence, why not start aging other things in oak in order to capitalize on the fad? Bourbon barrel-aged beer! Bourbon-barrel aged maple syrup! Even Bourbon barrel-aged gin!

During those initial years of the whiskey craze, gin was making a comeback. But the best way to sell more gin at that point was to pretend it was whiskey. Put it in a cask for a few months, let it get dark, bottle it at cask strength, and let the whiskey geeks have something new to salivate over. If you could find a tequila that had been aged for an extra-long period of time, you could definitely move some cases.

But mezcal? It’s always been a clear spirit, which often doesn’t translate for whiskey drinkers.

“How long was it aged for?” It wasn’t.

“What type of wood did they use?” None.

“Why is it so expensive if it wasn’t aged?” Because of what it took to make it.

Our desire to equate quality and price to time in a barrel is directly related to the whiskey revolution and how it rewired our brains. Because many wild agaves need 10-20 years in the ground to fully mature, I’ve seen a number of new mezcal brands with age statements on their labels, trying to use the number of years the piña spent in the dirt as a way to correlate maturity to whiskey drinkers.

But the entire reason for loving agave spirits, to me, stems from the agricultural and culinary philosophies of each producer, rather than any length of maturation. I spent over an hour on Zoom last night with Ben Scott and Anthony Silas from Mezcal Mal Bien, tasting through their incredible portfolio, and I was overjoyed to hear them mention what is, again to me, the most important thing to know about rustic agave spirits: “The type of agave is only the third most important aspect of the spirit. The producer and the location are far more important when determining the flavor and the quality of an agave spirit.”

Hallelujah!

If you click on the link above and take a look at one of the Mal Bien labels, you’ll see it looks very much like the water bottles in the photo above. It was Ben and Anthony’s intent to replicate the rustic and unpretentious manner in which these spirits are enjoyed in Mexico. In the case of agave, the specs are indeed important, but only in how they help consumers understand the producer, then ultimately the spirit.

If I were to put twenty glasses of various agave spirits on the table, I’d give a million bucks (if I had it) to the person who could correctly pick out which were Madrecuixe and which were Tobalá. Despite the fact our industry has tried to create wine varietals out of agave, it’s not quite the same thing. There’s too much variation in how these piñas are grown, cooked, fermented, and distilled to find varietal commonalities that are completely distinct and uniform. Contrast that with Cabernet Sauvignon and Pinot Noir. Put twenty glasses of wine on the table, and I’ll tell you with high accuracy which are Cab and which are Pinot.

When you look at an agave label, one of the most important details you’ll want to know is the type of still. Copper? Clay? Alembic? Filipino? That little detail right there can completely change the flavor of what you’re sipping on. Most of us are familiar with copper alembic pot stills, but what about hallowed-out tree trunks with a pot of water on top and a bamboo stick for condensation? Filipino stills are a traditional method of distillation that are named as such because the Spanish brought the practice over to Mexico from the Philippines as part of their colonial route across the Pacific.

You’re also going to want to know where the producer is located, where the agave is coming from, and the process by which the agave is cooked and milled. Terroir is incredibly important as the same species of agave from one side of Oaxaca will have a completely different flavor (and often a completely different name) from the other side. That being said, even if two producers harvest the exact same agave from the exact same location, if one of them roasts it in a pit and the other in an oven, the resulting spirits are going to taste different.

Even if they’re both roasted in the same pit, the spirits also going to taste different if one producer mills the piñas with a stone tahona, and the other uses wooden mallets. The oxidation rates will affect the ultimate flavor. Ditto for the type of native yeast used for fermentation and the vessel used. If one is fermented in a concrete vat and the other in animal skins, or in a volcanic stone pit, or in a wooden canoe, it’s going to affect the flavor. Hence, the producer and the methods of production are all far more important than the type of agave.

So why don’t they put these wild agave spirits in wood? Because, like a fine Sancerre or Chablis, it’s not about the oak maturation, dude! There is so much inherent flavor in these spirits from the earth and the process. That’s the point. You don’t want anything else getting in the way.

So how do you know if you’ll like it? You won’t. Not until you try it. But I can tell you from experience—even just last night’s tasting—that finding a producer you like is more important than anything. One of the Mal Bien expressions is made by a producer who only distills once, using a refrescador or refractor in the still to boost the proof. As a result, there’s more methanol in the spirit as it’s less refined. But that methanol gives the spirit a vanilla bean or crème brûlée flavor that is simply incredible. It’s one of the creamiest agave spirits I’ve ever tasted.

And it had nothing to do with oak maturation.

-David Driscoll

French Spirits Direct

Tasting Cognac in the chai at Dudognon

I have a friend named Charles Neal who imports French wine and spirits. We’ll get into the history of how that began later, but let’s just say that many years ago Charles fell in love with a girl from Armagnac, moved to Southern France, and had to find a way to keep himself busy.

I met Charles in 2009 and started purchasing a number of his goods for the store I was running. As we expanded the portfolio and spirits started taking off, I suggested to Charles: maybe we should go to France and find more stuff. And so we did. From 2012 to 2018, Charles and I went to Armagnac, Cognac, and Calvados annually (sometimes bi-annually) to taste new brandies and select exclusive vintages for my store.

How does one do that? It’s pretty simple. Look at the above photo. You rent a car, drive around from farm to farm, tell the producer you’re interested in purchasing some booze, and then you taste. He or she will walk you into the barrel room or chai (pronounced “shay”), pull some samples out of the giant foudres, and you go from there.

Pulling Calvados samples in the chai at Domaine du Manoir de Montreuil

As the years went by and our supplemental import program expanded, Charles began offering the same opportunities to other bars and restaurants in California. The cocktail world was exploding and there were a number of adventurous drink menus in search of unadulterated and affordable brandies for their thirty consumers.

But, as you can imagine, with bars and restaurants being closed for the last year, much of those exclusive blends have gone unused and a pressure release valve for that inventory is needed. While retailers have gobbled up the older and more expensive brandies that Charles imports, the cocktail-oriented bottles are without an audience because there’s no one around to explain what’s in them!

But I’m going to remedy that this week. Having been there for a number of these blending sessions firsthand, I’m going to share photos and write-ups on three of Charles’ core producers, as well as purchase them for the store.

Retiring to the drawing room at Château de Briat for some Armagnac tasting

If you’re champing at the bit to get going, you don’t have to wait for me. I’ve got a number of new Pellehaut expressions ready to go, including the new Selection II meant for making high-quality Sidecars and Brandy Old Fashioneds. I haven’t updated the notes yet, however; and I have some more editing work to do on the text that’s already there.

I’ll also have affordable new Calvados arrivals from Domaine du Manor de Montreuil and a fantastic Cognac selection from Dugognon, one of the last producers in the region to bottle without one drop of added caramel coloring or sweetener.

And I plan to get Charles on here for an interview as well, hopefully an Instagram Live chat next week. Stay tuned.

-David Driscoll

Age

Do you remember being a kid and visiting a new friend for the first time, only to come home completely disoriented because of how different he or she lived than you?

As an example, I distinctly remember going to friend’s house after school in second grade and being shell-shocked by the fact he watched Gilligan’s Island at 4 PM instead of Happy Days. After that he watched Hogan’s Heroes instead of Mork and Mindy. It was too weird for me. I never went back.

In a sense, meeting new people as we get older constitutes a number of the same situations, it’s just that our coping skills have evolved to the point where we don’t freak out over a little adversity. But as the years go by, and we come into contact with younger people, the little differences can become chasms of separation that are too wide to overlook. There are certain ways of living we come to take for granted, and when those comforts are removed from our existence, we have less patience for that new reality.

The first time I went to Bordeaux for the en primeur tasting, I was with my former boss and his friends: all of whom were in their 60s and 70s. They knew the wines from every estate inside and out, and for them the entire week was old hat. For me, I was jumping at the opportunity to experience everything I could; partially because I knew I would never be able to afford to taste the wines on my own. Most of my older colleagues felt differently, however. For them, tasting the wines while knowing the modern prices was depressing, and a constant reminder of how they had been priced out of their favorite pastime.

Because I had never experienced Bordeaux in the 80s or 90s, I didn’t have any of the same expectations. To me, a bottle of Pichon-Baron should cost $150+. For these other guys, however; a bottle of Pichon-Baron will always be stuck in their minds at $20.

Today, the shoe is on the other foot, albeit with whisk(e)y rather than wine. Those of us who cut our teeth on 2007 prices often have a great difficulty paying what 2021 demands. BUT…the younger generation of whiskey drinkers has no issue. For them, a bottle of Pappy may be worth $1000 or more. Many of them have no problem shelling out extra cash if it means securing the chance at a rare experience. I know this because I watch it happen about fifty times every single day now that I’m back in retail.

Some of my older friends and customers have no patience for this. They’re still living in the era where buying a bottle of whiskey meant you were going to drink it, not sit on it for investment purposes. Once you realize a large number of today’s drinkers are looking to capitalize off their purchases, it completely changes the way you look at the industry.

To use a current analogy, those who bought GameStop stock at $50 or less were sitting pretty when they sold those shares for over $400 last week. But, that doesn’t mean the guys who paid $300 and sold for $400 went away empty handed. Even the guys who paid $350 or more still may have turned a profit. The same holds true for rare bottles of American whiskey. You may laugh at what others are willing to pay, but the joke may ultimately be on you.

As an example, you might scoff at paying $150 or more for a bottle of Blanton’s—as a beverage. But what about as an investment opportunity?

Every single day I talk to guys on the phone who have no plan on drinking many of their purchases. Most of them are younger than me. They’re building equity for a resale down the line, or the chance to trade for something better. As one person told me when buying a rare bottle of rye: “I actually don’t like rye whiskey, but I know someone who will trade me something better for it.”

This has happened in a number of pop culture genres over the last decade-plus. Look at the secondary market for Jordans now. 99% of the people buying his basketball shoes have never played hoops, nor do they plan to; it’s purely a fashion statement or an investment.

Whiskey is no different. As I fell asleep last night while watching The Color of Money, I was struck by something Fast Eddie tells Vincent when asked why he no longer plays pool:

“I’m too old. My wheels are shot. It’s a young man’s game. Kids are playing on coke, speed. When I was younger, it was booze. Somehow it was more human.”

-David Driscoll

Instagram Live With Gerald Casale - Next Weds

From 2016 to the beginning of 2018, somehow the word got out that if you were a celebrity who wanted to start your own booze label, I was one of the guys to call for advice.

It was humbling, but also weird at times because for many of these brands there was nothing I could do to help. The juice was often poor, and there’s no remedy for bad juice other than to simply get rid of it.

The one guy who absolutely had (and continues to have) great taste, however; was Gerald Casale, the co-frontman for the rock group Devo. Not just with wine and spirits, mind you, but with food. The guy is a fantastic cook. When I moved to LA in 2019, Gerald began inviting us over for dinner and—to this day—I can safely say that his homemade wood-fired pizza is among the best I’ve ever had.

As far as celebrity labels go, I don’t consider Gerald’s 50 by 50 Pinot Noir in the same category as other celebrity brands because there’s nothing hokey about it. Made from fantastic Sonoma Coast fruit, the wine drinks as well as any of its competitors for the price, and often times better. In Gerald’s case, I’m always willing to jump in and help because I wholeheartedly believe in his product (and I drink it at home).

But enough explaining; I’ll let Gerald fill you in on the details this Wednesday at 5 PM when we sit down on the @missionliquor Instagram for a live chat.

See you there!

-David Driscoll

A Fun Deal

While most bartenders and booze professionals I know won’t openly speak about vodka, or offer an opinion, I have no problem with it.

I love vodka. I drink a lot of it. Mostly with ginger beer, but sometimes as a 50/50 Vesper Martini as well.

I also like ice cold vodka with caviar. If I’m drinking it that way, I’m very picky. I want Eastern European vodka made with winter wheat, no alternatives. Sometimes I do Belvedere. Sometimes I do Stoli Elit. Sometimes I do Jewel of Russia.

But for the time being, I’m switching to Double Cross because we just got a HOT deal, offering a $30 vodka for $13.95.

If you’re new to Double Cross vodka, let me quickly catch you up:

• Double Gold Medal Winner - Best Vodka: SF Spirits Competition.

• Double Gold Medal Winner - Best Packaging: SF Spirits Competition.

• Packaged in an elegant and award-winning rectangular glass bottle that makes for a show-stopping gift.

• AND MOST IMPORTANTLY: Made with 100% winter wheat from Slovakia and filtered with Tatra mountain spring water.

Like I said, most retailers are at $30. Our big box friends down the street are raving about their discounted price of $23.99.

But I’m taking it a step further because that’s what I am: a habitual line-stepper, to quote Charlie Murphy’s description of Rick James.

I’ve got plenty in stock, so grab what you need. Like the Lagavulin 9 year, I’d recommend buying this one by the case.

-David Driscoll

Don't Snooze On Scottish Gin

As much as we all love Scotch whisky and the drinking culture that goes along with it, the Scottish make some incredible gin as well; much of it at the very same locations where the whisky is made.

It’s a funny thing because so many folks I know are willing to pay more for a boutique-y “craft” gin rather than settle for a regular old bottle of Tanqueray. Tanqueray isn’t all that cool these days, as we’re now thirty years removed from Snoop Dogg’s “Gin & Juice.” Yet, what always stands out to me about modern gins in contrast: most craft gins don’t distill their own base spirit! Not that it matters in the end, but the one thing you can say about Tanqueray: it’s actually distilled from scratch by Tanqueray at Cameron Bridge distillery in Scotland, not simply purchased and passed through a still with botanicals.

The same goes for Hendrick’s, made at Girvan distillery in the Lowlands. The giant column still that makes grain whisky for William Grant, and a number of other blended Scotch whisky companies, produces the grain neutral spirit for Hendrick’s, which is then re-distilled on an old Bennett pot still and a Carterhead with a vapor infusion chamber on the lyne arm. They were purchased in the 1960s from London’s closed Taplow Distillery (and today there’s a third still, made from an exact replica).

Regardless of where the base spirit comes from, gin is big business these days. With so many new expressions to choose from each month, it’s hard to imagine a home for every new label on the market. Today, you can find gins from Japan, China, India, Africa, Australia, New Zealand, and everywhere in between; many of them using distinctly-native botanicals, adding a unique “terroir” to their spirits.

The Hendrick’s “gin palace” at Girvan Distillery

Craft gins have been multiplying in number for more than a decade at this point, and it can be hard to keep up. To paraphrase an old Pavement song: I saw another one just the other day; a special new gin. At this point, many of us have been conditioned to think small and local when it comes to quality, but in the case of gin those attributes don’t really mean anything. You can run booze through a still anywhere, but where was the liquid actually made? Your guess is often as good as mine.

Not to imply that you have to make your own grain neutral to make good gin, it’s just to point out that some of the brands we consider to be mass-produced actually are more crafty in nature than we’ve come to believe. In fact, the craft gin craze in essence begins with Hendrick’s. Born in 1999, roughly a decade before the pre-Prohibition cocktail craze took hold, the team at Grant simply wanted to make something more innovative than than Bombay Sapphire!

How did they do it? They blended a heavy, more juniper-concentrated distillate from the Bennett still with the lighter, more floral spirit from the Carterhead still. Much like Grant built its reputation on the back of blended whisky, its soon-to-be-world-famous gin was also the result of a skillful marriage. That, and the uniquely-scented aromas of rose petal and cucumber that would become Hendrick’s calling card with bartenders and gin aficionados everywhere.

The real mind behind Hendrick’s and its subsequent spin-offs is Lesley Gracie, who has become somewhat of an enigma in the industry. Her nose for creativity has resulting in a number of new Hendrick’s editions, including the fantastic quinine-infused Orbium that allows you to make a gin & tonic with soda water rather than the tonic, and the newly-released Lunar expression that uses botanicals that bloom at night. I’ve been sipping on the Lunar at home all week and I’m totally smitten. Drinking it neat, it tastes almost like an herbal-spiced fruit tea. In a cocktail, it never gets lost; I could still make out the spice notes in a Corpse Reviver #2 last night.

Despite having been to Scotland almost a dozen times, I’ve only been to Edinburgh once—and only for an afternoon. Why? Because there aren’t any major whisky distilleries in Edinburgh! But there is one fantastic gin distillery, aptly named Edinburgh Gin. While it was contract-distilled out of England for its first few years of existence, today its made right in the center of the city with a beautiful visitor’s center, to boot. I’ve never been inside, but I’m a fan of the gin and it’s on my list of distilleries to visit once travel resumes and I can get back over to the UK.

If you’re looking for a wacky new flavor of gin that completely reinvents the wheel, then look outside both England and Scotland, as even the most innovative of new recipes never strays far from the classical line. The same holds true for Edinburgh, with its three core flavors that offer diversity, but are traditionally-tailored for the London dry palate. The standard edition is fruitier on the nose that most classic gins, and perhaps a bit rounder on the palate, but the lemon peel and savory spice flavors on the palate keep it grounded in familiar territory, and the gin finishes clean and fresh.

The Seaside gin is the lightest and breeziest of the three, distilled with actual seaweed, and balances savory with sweet to finish dry and neat on the palate. I know Tristan Stephenson, who wrote the fantastic book Gin Palace (from which gleaned some of the details for this post), likes this one with tonic water, lemon, and pinch of sea salt. He’s also a fan of the Cannonball gin, Edinburgh’s navy strength heavy-hitter that bursts forward with huge notes of black peppercorn at 57% ABV.

If you only drank gin from the UK for the rest of your life, you’d do pretty well. Concentrate that focus purely to Scotland and you’re still pretty high on the horse. While my wife doesn’t concur, I could move to Scotland tomorrow and never look back. Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs for breakfast, a gin martini for lunch with tatties and neeps, a pint of Tennants after work, and a glass of Scotch whisky in the evening before bed.

That’s good living.

-David Driscoll

Non-Diffuser NOMs

Following up with more tequila information today to help answer the question I’m getting over and over again via email: How do I know which tequilas are made with diffusers?

The answer: I can only tell you which tequila producers DON’T use diffusers.

Rather than share the top brand names with you, I’m going to list the distillery NOM numbers because the best distillers often make a dozen different brands. The easiest way to identify these producers is to look for the NOM identification on the label (in the top right of the above photo you can see that Cimarron is NOM 1146), and go from there.

One little caveat, while a NOM number will tell you where a tequila is produced, it doesn’t necessarily mean all the tequila in the bottle came from that producer. I only bring this up because a number of large brands have told me certain distilleries don’t have diffusers; to which I answered: “That doesn’t mean someone isn’t buying diffuser tequila from another producer and blending it in.”

But in the case of the distilleries below, I’m pretty certain that’s not happening.

I’m going to link each NOM to its profile on the Tequila Matchmaker website as well so you can dig deeper if you feel like going down this rabbit hole. Click on the profile to see a complete list of the tequilas made at each distillery.

When I buy a bottle of tequila, 999 out of 1000 times it’s going to come from one of the following producers:

• NOM 1123 - Cascahuin

• NOM 1414 - Vivanco

• NOM 1146 - Tequileña

• NOM 1493 - Los Abuelos (Fortaleza)

• NOM 1579 - El Pandillo

• NOM 1139 - La Alteña

• NOM 1474 - Los Alambiques

Given the fact there are roughly 105 tequila distillers in the Jalisco area and I’m only listing seven distilleries, that should give you an idea of how widespread the use of diffusers is.

Are there other non-diffuser distillers I haven’t listed? Surely.

However, for the moment, the only producers I’m confident enough to put in writing are the above seven. There are also distilleries with diffusers that make a handful of non-diffuser labels, but with all the blending going on I can’t say for certain if a typically non-diffuser brand is or isn’t being cut with a bit of diffuser juice to stretch out volume.

In any case, start with these producers and go from there if you’re looking for advice.

-David Driscoll

Great Expectations

When the expectations of your customers exceed the abilities of what you’re able to provide, you’ve got a problem.

Luckily, I don’t think that’s the case for 95% of the people we serve here at Mission, but for those adventurous drinkers who are always hunting the next big thing, I have a feeling 2021 is going to be a very frustrating year.

Here’s the reality of what’s ahead of us:

• There are 25% tariffs on anything good coming out of the UK and Europe and it doesn’t appear they’re going away in the immediate future.

• Even without the tariffs, most interesting single barrel selections are completely dried up, or they’ve been priced according to demand, so there are no deals whatsoever.

• Japanese whiskies will continue to be mostly Scotch that happens to be bottled in Japan, or aged rice distillate disguised as whiskey.

• New releases on American whiskey will continue to be scarce and expensive, resulting in higher prices and increased competition.

• Great American wineries will continue to be purchased by large investment groups who plan to “refurbish” and the sell the wines for more money.

• Tequila production will continue to expand, which means more agave will be processed at a young age, furthering the expansion of diffusers and creating an even bigger shortage of mature agave.

• Mezcal will continue to boom and people will act like they care, but never actually buy anything.

But enough good news!

The real issue we’re facing is that our expectations as savvy consumers are beginning to exceed what the current market can actually offer us.

You wanna know why there’s so much division in America, and why a segment of the population is longing to return to the “good old days?” It’s related to this same problem.

There was a time when going to a good college meant you would actually get a good job, rather than a lifetime of student loan debt. Unfortunately for an entire generation, that memo didn’t get out in time.

There was also a time when buying a home was a good investment and you were almost guaranteed to build equity as the years went by. Today, I don’t think that’s the case.

When everyone has a degree and expects to make $100K right out of college, it’s easy for expectations to exceed reality. Just like all those people who show up to look at a home listed for $700K, thinking they’ve found a place they can afford, only to realize they’re about to be outbid by someone willing to pay a million. It’s depressing.

I have dozens of friends who are unsatisfied with their jobs right now, as they grip with the new realities of the COVID economy. Many of them thought the changes in their companies would be temporary, but now they’re coming to terms with the hard truth: their jobs have been permanently altered. When a company earns more in 2020 by spending less on wages, why would it ever go back to doing things the old way?

For whiskey consumers still dreaming of $30 Elmer T. Lee on the shelves, or a $50 bottle of mature, second-growth Bordeaux that’s readily available whenever you need it, I fear their frustration is only going to grow. We’re never going back to that era. It’s over.

We’re in the era of $50 California wine that should be $10, but costs $50 because the price of land in California requires it to cost that much. Then, on top of that, more and more of the best grapes are being purchased by outside entrepreneurs who want to start their own vanity label, buy expensive fruit, and then completely fuck it up. But they put it in a hip, modern-looking bottle and they spin a good tale, so it sells. Or it doesn’t.

We’re in the era of premiumization, where companies are being told they need to make their products more attractive to a higher income bracket. That’s why distilleries, wineries, and breweries are being purchased by multi-national conglomerates and turned into luxury brands on a daily basis. Moving forward, you can expect more and more of the producers you’ve been drinking for years to phase out their bargain labels and replace them with higher-priced options.

Meanwhile, all the bargain brands are quietly being bought up by gigantic companies who will switch the formula over to their own mass-produced, cheaper alternative without 90% of the population batting an eye.

You wanna know why I wrote about Glenfiddich yesterday? Because Glennfiddich is a whisky that still offers a lot fantastic bang for the buck, and I had a great time drinking it with friends. But, make no mistake, I’m painfully aware of how irrelevant that blog post is in the greater scheme of things. As we were finishing up our glasses, I said to my buddy David: “Wouldn’t it be great if everyone just wanted to drink something that tasted good for a great price? It would be so much easier.”

The truth is: our expectations exceed the simple pleasures of Glenfiddich 12 or 15 year old. Yet, ironically, this is where all the value is today; with big brand labels that are still made with integrity. It used to be in the single cask market, where we could find competitive alternatives that had more flavor and more concentration. Today, however, it’s completely flipped.

Even though we’ve been conditioned to think outside the box, today you simply get more value with a mass-produced brand than a boutique label.

Just like you can make more money with a technical degree today than with a PhD.

Just like you’re probably better off renting and putting your savings into a mutual fund to build equity for retirement, rather than spending a million on 900 square feet.

The world is changing quickly. For the sake of your happiness and your sanity, it’s important to keep your expectations in line with those changes.

-David Driscoll