Dear Mezcal,
I don’t think we should see each other anymore.
Don’t get me wrong — I had great time with you in Mexico City the other weekend, but I woke up the next morning feeling a little remorseful, and dehydrated. It was kind of like that night I had a fling with Absinthe in Barcelona. I woke up without a drop of water left in my body and the sensation that I had turned into a giant Kafkaesque bug — all stiff limbs and joints. But I digress…
As you know, Mezcal, I’ve been with Tequila for 14 years now, and I really do prefer Tequila. Although we have an open relationship (I’ve been known to runoff with Gin for the weekend), after spending time with others, I always end up finding myself coming back to Tequila, the passion renewed. Luckily, Tequila never judges me, and is always there when I need him the most.
I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I’ll admit, when I met you in that hip little mezcalaria in Colonia Condesa you seemed exciting and new. They served you in a little one-ounce shot glass because, as we all know, you’re the “bad boy” of Mexican spirits. I remember when Tequila was a “bad boy,” too. But I could always detect his sweeter side when others couldn’t.
You’re stronger and tougher than a the types I usually go for, with a higher alcohol content than most tequilas. So, I probably shouldn’t have had three shots in a row. But you smelled great, like citrus and butter. In truth, it was your taste that killed it for me. That smoky, grab-me-by-the-throat and set-me-on-fire-taste just didn’t do it for me.
Even though they served you with fresh-cut oranges sprinkled with chili, and super salty pumpkin seeds (delicious!), they couldn’t totally mask your harsh personality.
Listen, Mezcal, it’s not you. It’s me. I prefer something a little smoother, and not so smoky—something that goes down easy and has a subtle, complex personality, rather than something that gives me a dull headache and makes me wonder, “What the hell happened last night?” I know you have girls, and boys, lined up around the block for you, but you’re just not my type.
Best of luck,
Scarlet
You KNOW you will be seeing mezcal sometime down the road…it will just happen…we are such animals..LOL
Tequila is essentially a watered down, modernized version of Mezcal. It sounds more like your palate isn’t experienced enough to appreciate the full flavor and body of Mezcal. There are plenty of higher proof tequilas that exude the stronger flavors that have been missing for years. And just like tequilas (or any other spirit), there are good and bad in all. Keep practicing, not all Mezcal is smoked in a pit, and they are also not all higher proof than Tequila. Maybe that headache you got was from your lack of judgement to pick a pure mezcal and not knowing your limits.
BRAVO!!!!Great answer, and mezcal is not for highschool drinkers that are used to shots instead of enjoying such a complex and magical drink
Tricia,
Every mezcal I’ve ever tried–all top notch ones, no cheap stuff–tastes like smoky rubbing alcohol to me. Just like with cilantro, I think there is a mezcal gene one is born with and you either have it or you don’t. Not everyone has to like mezcal, you know! I also don’t like vodka and it doesn’t mean that I lack judgement on what is the best kind.
Scarlet knows her limits and I’m sure, being familiar with the mezcal-expert company she keeps in Mexico City, that it was a pure mezcal that she tried.
Dear Scarlett,
I just discovered your site and loved the Dear John letter to Mezcal. I am a tequila lover also but have never tried Mezcal. I’m intrigued but will tread lightly when the opportunity presents itself. Thanks for the warning and the chuckles.
Dear Scarlett,
So we had a few laughs the other night…..don’t you worry your pretty little head about our affair. I knew the moment you walked into my muy peligroso bar that you were an uptown fish out of water. I watched as you sat your fancy, fine agave self down and tried your best not to be offended by my smokiness. If I didn’t know any better I would say you were just as turned on as you were offended by my brusk, raw presence. You may let your hair down for your dear Tequila, but only you and I will know which deeply guarded inhibitions I have the ability to melt.
I will remember you fondly Scarlett, even if you cannot remember me.
Warm, smoky regards,
Mezcalito
Dear Mezcalito
Easy on Scarlet dear, not everyone is ready to consort with their raw underside as readily as you, you delicious beast.
A little raspy for the posh and polished I suppose. I must admit to having formerly considered myself a lover of Tequila, being in fact ignorant of her older brother. I thought Mezcalito called everyone – but Scarlet has made me aware that not everyone is as easily seduced. (latin derivative of seduc – meaning “to educate”)
Blessed be the ignorant :-) Thank Goddess – some are not one of the uneducated masses… “we’ve mentioned before that we aren’t big mezcal fans so if you’re a mezcal lover stop reading here, lest you have to be waste your evening…) Blah blah
Yum