Franklin Ellis 4960 Paper

Over the summer I was fortunate to hear from various mezcal producers. Here are some of the consolidated stories I heard while visiting their Palenques (mezcal still):

Reina:Reina, which means queen in Spanish, is truly the queen of mezcal. However, banish any

thought of an aloof, snobbish queen; this Reina exemplifies generosity and hard work. In a male-dominated industry, Reina has become well-known as a producer of some of the finest mezcals in Oaxaca. Reina’s grandfather first introduced her to mezcal and sparked her life-long passion, yet he voiced an uncertainty in her ability to find success in the business, largely due to the fact that she is a woman. Although Reina has faced discrimination in a very classic sense (men questioning her ability to perform tasks viewed as “men’s work”), her high-quality end product speaks for itself: mezcal knows no gender.

From the first meeting, Reina presents a fierce, can-do attitude; no man, no person, no obstacle will stop her for long. Over the course of a very full day, I witnessed Reina both reinforce and break the traditional mezcalero mold. She, like other mezcaleros, works exceptionally hard to produce delicious mezcal, but she does so without the help of a partner. Every mezcalero I visited in Oaxaca echoed some version of “without women, there is no mezcal.” Wives and daughters play critical, but often underappreciated roles in mezcal production: preparing food for the family, taking care of the house and handling other vital tasks. Reina performs these “support” roles, in addition to being the boss of a large mezcal operation. While she takes a very traditional approach in producing her mezcal, she’s also willing to eschew strict tradition if it helps workers without compromising the product. For

example, Reina provides a TV as a form of relief for the workers during their breaks from the tiring, but satisfying labor, something that she said is not normally done and that her grandfather, who first showed her the ropes, would most certainly not have approved. Her family has made delicious mezcal for generations, and Reina wants to retain that tradition while also adding her own flare.

During a tour of Reina’s fields of maguey, her palpable excitement and pride in what she does becomes especially evident. Reina holds that while mezcal is work, it also is her entire livelihood and thus especially important for her to take a step back and enjoy the fruits of her labor. As we ran into fellow mezcaleros and friends, we were all invited to sit and drink a cup of mezcal. Despite the generally very quick pace at the palenque, we stayed sitting and laying on the ground enjoying mezcal for over an hour before we walked back, fully planning to begin our drive back to Oaxaca City. However, Reina insisted we stay for dinner, where she served us simple, yet delicious chicken soup with homemade tortillas. The visit ended with a hug from Reina, her understated sense of generosity, passion and care shared with all. Lalo:

Chickens rushed up to the car greeting us as we pulled up to Lalo Hernandez’s palenque. There was something fresh and different about his operation that I had not seen before: a very vocal concern for the environment and a system and operation that reflect this view. While all artisanal and ancestral mezcal production has a small environmental imprint, Lalo takes it a step further. Lalo believes in the power of symbiotic relationships. He grows corn next to his maguey because the sharp spines of the maguey protect the corn from animals and the corn provides needed shade to the maguey. More shade means less need for irrigation, thus conserving valuable water.

After a quick tour of his palenque, where he showed us the traditional still and old tools as well as the cows that supply him with milk and manure to fertilize his plants, he led us into a room where a woman was making tortillas with the corn he grows. He told us of the destruction many parts of southern Mexico have faced at the indirect hands of Western consumers. Kimberly Clark, the US-based conglomerate, decimated a community’s forest and water supply in pursuit of cheap wood for its paper products. And Americans’ insatiable appetite for avocados has similarly damaged the environment and the drive for low costs has contributed to labor abuses. Lalo does not let this get him down, but rather uses it as motivation to set a better example. He proudly notes that within his area of Mexico, only six people have immigrated to the US in search of jobs. Lalo tried to avoid a potentially controversial political discussion, but did mention that he cares deeply about invigorating the Mexican economy so that people do not need to risk their lives trying to cross the northern border to support themselves and their families.

Lalo seeks to set an example for other mezcaleros and farmers to work with and within the environment, instead of against it. After we finished up a delicious breakfast of eggs from his chickens and cheese from his cows, scooped up with the tortillas from his corn, we visited one of his fields. He pointed out the dead bean sprouts that were next to budding corn and

squash, explaining that he’d never grown beans before. Either intentionally or not, Lalo was engaging in one of the oldest agricultural systems that rely on symbiosis: the three sisters. However, neither Lalo nor I saw the dead beans as a waste, but rather the exhibition of a desire and effort to continually improve and to nurture the land.

Finally, after a full day at his farm, he invited us into his home to try the true heart of his environmentally conscious labor: mezcal. While all of the mezcal samples were delicious, I was most taken by the changing expressions on Lalo’s face as he intently attempted to gauge our reactions, both the spoken and the unspoken ones. He cared what we thought and worked very hard to introduce samples that he thought would resonate with our various tastes. I noted one that I particularly liked because it burned the throat, but not too much. It left me warm, the perfect conclusion for both the mezcal and the day.

Leo and Pablo:At Leo’s palenque (mezcal distillery) and agave farm, a large group of workers

harvested, split, and placed many agave piñas (heart of the maguey) in a circle around a large smoking fire, the source of mezcal’s distinct smoky flavor. Leo greeted me and handed me a cup of some of his finest mezcal. The accompanying journalists pressed to ask their questions, but Leo wasn’t having it. Instead, he focused his attention on carefully pouring cup after cup of his mezcal from a nineteen-liter glass basin (he has only seen a few shatter in his life). His mien was that of an artist, with tangible pride in his work, his product. He wanted everybody there, workers, journalists, family and friends, to sample his mezcal. Much like a

musician searches for ears and opinions, Leo wanted taste-buds and thoughts. Relaxed and indirect, he was not pushing this on anyone. There was no marketing, no back-slapping, no “Hey, have you tried my mezcal? Pretty good huh?” Rather, his efforts added to the easy going atmosphere on top of this large hill of his.

His wife and some of his staff were preparing meat to barbecue as his son ran around playing, the line between work and play blurred.

Leo has received numerous offers to sell his fertile hill, but never even considered because Leo is his land. The seven days a week of physical and mental exertion isn’t work for Leo; it’s life. And it’s family. Leo’s great great grandfather started the Hernandez mezcal dynasty and when asked about the future, he simply whistled to his son, Juanito, who trotted over. Pablo Arrellenas would agree that mezcal is family. Pablo, a spry 68, represents the older

generation yet exhibited equivalent levels of enthusiasm towards his product as the younger two I saw that day. Pablo graciously greeted us as we arrived at his palenque, but with a weak handshake (he couldn’t curl his fingers around my hand) that was at odds with his otherwise vigorous bearing. I later

learned his almost immobile thumbs were due to his preference for an ancient form of mezcal production which involves using a large wooden mallet to press the maguey prior to fermentation.

Pablo captivated me and the journalists with his words. As an agriculture student in upstate New York, I’ve gone on plenty of farm tours where the farmer talks about his/her life work and passion while his/her audience kicks at the dirt and stares off. The opposite was true here. We were entirely engaged as Pablo showed us his palenque and process, and finally presented us three different mezcals, (marteño, espadín and tepeztate) “tasting” with us each time.

With the important work done, Pablo became less the teacher and indulged the celebrity status with which we treated him, proudly offering to pose for more photos. He gave me a final, unwrapped hand shake and I was on my way.

I spent a day with three different generations of mezcaleros at work. Pure passion on their end translates into genuine and well-earned respect among the lucky observers, and lucky for everyone else, into some of the most delicious mezcals in the world.

Don Balthazar: Adaptation. That is the word that popped into my mind when I trekked through San Luis

del Rio and met two different mezcal producers who exhibited different ways of staying relevant in a changing industry. We approached Don Baltazar Cruz and his son David’s palenque where eight or so young men, most under the age of twenty, were chiseling away at large stones. These stones would then be placed in a circle, making a tahona. Another tahona lie in ruins next to the construction site. The owner and mezcal master, Don Baltazar explained that many of the men had come from Oaxaca in search of better wages. After showing us around his palenque which sits tightly against a cliff with an unmatched view. Don Baltazar poured us a sampling of his mezcal, offering some to all of the workers as well. This simple interaction contrasted sharply with a stereotypical boss/worker dynamic where the boss avoids any hint of creating a personal relationship with the workers and avoids manual labor. Don Baltazar rejects this “clean hands” approach. I watched as he first mixed up the maguey pulp in a large wooden basin, sinking his arms nearly to the shoulder in what initially looked like a completely random fashion. As he continued, the contents transformed from unorganized shreds to perfectly layered layers that allowed small bubbles to release gas during the process.

Don Baltazar is building a new tahona because he envisions creating a booming tourism industry in this town nestled within Oaxaca State. Tourists love scenery and old techniques, not

industrial areas and machines, and he aims to provide a full and authentic experience. San Luis del Rio, with its gorgeous natural setting and two hour drive from Oaxaca City (which also has an international airport and nonstop flights to and from numerous US cities), could prove a perfect location for tourism in the mold of a small less commercialized Napa Valley.

Deeper in the valley, well off the beaten path, sat another palenque owned by a mezcal master with a very different mindset. Next to his ruinous tahona stood a blue mechanical piña

shredder that can grind piñas six times faster than the traditional horse-drawn stone. Ivan Mendez wants to produce more mezcal and sell more mezcal. In contrast to the more traditional mezcal masters, Ivan maintains that mezcal from machine-ground maguey tastes no different than mezcal from hand (or horse) ground maguey. Unfortunately, he’s likely right as it applies to the vast American market which can’t appreciate the fine differences in taste. Later in the day Don Baltazar invited us back to his home where we discussed the American consumer. All of his questions and my answer came back to two things: authenticity and originality. That’s what the American consumer wants and producers can use that to better sell both the experience and the product. Don Baltazar wants to make the experience part of the product (and create a tourism hub in the valley) and Ivan wants to sell more mezcal. Both are right.