We moved from San Francisco to Mexico a little over a month ago and I’d say we’re pretty settled in. Getting here was easier than we thought—we notified our landlord that we were leaving, hired movers to pack all of our stuff and put it in storage, and rented an apartment in Tlaquepaque. There was just one major hurdle—getting rid of our 85 bottles of mostly opened, premium tequilas.
Almost as soon as we made the decision to move, we realized that our extensive tequila collection would be an issue. Obviously, we couldn’t take the bottles with us (imagine us hiring a coyote to smuggle dozens of open bottles of tequila into Mexico) but we certainly didn’t want them to go to waste. They were our children, our prized possessions, and we had been hoarding them. Yes, hoarding. Why did a two-person household require 85 bottles of tequila? Why did we do the responsible thing and finish one bottle before purchasing a new one? Why did we spend so many nights going for a drink at our local bar, The Lone Palm, instead of staying home and drinking from our massive tequila cache? I’m afraid there’s not enough space to dive into these issues here, so I’ll just tell you about our little solution: A “Drain The Bar” party!
We decided to invite all of our friends, and some tequila industry folks, over to our home to wipe out as many bottles as possible. It would be an educational, fun-filled affair that would last all night. In preparation for the event, we made a video invite, printed up tasting charts, and cooked massive amounts of food to soak up the alcohol. Then we divided our collection up into stations—the blancos, repos, añejos and extra añejos all had their own tables, and we had a table just for flights. (There was also a margarita and paloma-making station for the wussies.)
As our guests began to arrive it became clear that the situation was overwhelming. Everywhere they looked there were bottles of tequila, many of which they had never heard of before, let alone tried.
After some initial hesitation, the guests started to get their sea legs. Armed with their tasting charts, they wandered from table to table, taking notes on their likes and dislikes. As the night wore on, everyone became much more relaxed. We decided to take advantage of the situation by putting a camera in one of the back bedrooms to shoot “Tequila Confessions.” (See the video above.)
Only a portion of the crowd was willing to go on camera, but the brave souls who did revealed some interesting tequila impressions, and kept us in stitches.
In the video you see one of the beauties of tequila—even though our guests had been drinking all night, they were not drunk or stumbling, just relaxed and fun.
The party turned out to be a huge success because it turned many non-tequila drinkers into fans, but it was also a failure. At 4 a.m., after the last straggler left (and two remained snoozing on the couch) we surveyed our collection. Despite the heroic efforts of our friends’ livers, many bottles still remained. We ended up throwing another party before we left where each person was required to take two bottles home with them. Now, that’s friendship.