Maestro Mezcalero Spotlight: Hermógenes Vazquez García
An early favorite still blows me away with his mezcal!
I’ve written more than once about my first mezcal experience. One that really blew me away—right from the first sip—was made by a certain maestro mezcalero whose palenque is about a three hour drive from Oaxaca City. He was introduced to me originally as “El Mogenes.” Pronounced as [el - MO-hen-ess].
“His name actually starts with “El?? As in “The”” I asked Job.
“Uh. Yeah. Somethin’ like that. “El Mogenes,” he replied.
“Wow,” I said. “I’d like a name like that. People could call me, The Jonathan. Cool!”
So for a couple of years, on my Guiño Guiño bottles, “El Mogenes” was printed on anything I brought in from him. Later Job was just calling him, “Mogen.”
“So now it’s just “Mogen?”
“Look I don’t know, man. Most people call him Mogen.”
So for quite a few more years, I’d print “Mogen” on bottles of his stuff. It wouldn’t be until later I would see his name somewhere online. (Insert face palm here.) His real name? Hermógenes Vasquez Garcia. NOT “El Mogenes,” but [air-MO-hen-ess].
Sigh.
Anyway his Madrecuixe, Bicuixe, and Espadín were all freaking amazing! Very earthy with a bit of sweetness and monster depth.
When visiting Job in Oaxaca several years ago, we were walking around centro when he pulled out a plastic Ciel water bottle from his backpack, asking me if I wanted a drink. I told him I could just buy my own water at the next tiendita, thanks very much. Then he explained that it was mezcal.
“OH! Mezcal? Absolutely!”
Isn’t it weird that drinking from another guy’s water bottle is a little skeezy, but doing so with his mezcal bottle is perfectly normal? And this stuff was positively spine tingling! It was an ensamble Mogen had made from 12 different varieties of agave.
Twelve!?!?
Apparently a guy pulled into Mogen’s palenque with a truck full of agave. Mogen looked it over, noticed there were many different types in there and told the guy he wouldn’t know what to do with it. I guess the guy made him an offer he couldn’t refuse; so Mogen did the only sensible thing and threw it all together into a single ensamble. My memory is he only got about 60 liters or so from it.
After taking that first sip, I bought 40 of those liters.
It had all the earthiness of Mogen’s cuixes, but with remarkably diverse flavors coming out of nowhere. What were those finishing notes? I decided they were like sparkles of strawberry soda! Then and there I made a declaration that I’ve since made many more times.
“Mezcal CANNOT get any better than this.”
I decided it was like a rainbow of flavors, and named it “Arcoíris Ensamble.” A few of my friends and I talk about that particular distillation to this day. I should have saved at least a few bottles for some special time later. But I am weak. It’s all been gone for years.
I Visit Mogen’s Palenque
It’s November of 2016. A bit more than 2 years previous I’d been baptized into a mezcal universe and was tasting everything I could get my tongue on, bringing in beautiful Oaxacan distillations here to San Miguel de Allende, bottling, enjoying and sharing them. To me, nothing tasted as good as Mogen’s stuff; so Job had offered to take me on a pilgrimage to meet the man. Just where was it?
“La Chis Wiz,” said Job.
“What? Did you just say, La Cheese Whiz?” I ask. “Dude, that canNOT be the name.”
“It’s somethin’ like that.”
Now that I’ve come into contact with Max Rosenstock of Neta Spirits who works closely with several small family producers there in the Miahuatlán region, I’ve discovered that what Job must have been talking about is spelled Lachiguizo; so it probably does sound like “La Cheese Whiz.” Kinda. But Max tells me most refer to the vicinity as Logoche. Works for me.
The upshot was it was a 3 hour drive; further out than any of my Oaxacan excursions before or since. So we left very early. As we got closer it struck me that the fields there didn’t seem very different from those where I grew up in rural, Northeast Michigan. Just before arriving at Mogen’s, Job spotted a familiar truck by the side of the road. It was neighbor and fellow mezcalero Celso García Cruz. In his pants pocket (no joke) was a bottle of the latest Espadín he’d made; so he offered to pour us some. Job hastily searched around his truck, and with no surprise found two shot glasses rolling around on the floor; so we happily sipped. Perfecto!
Earlier in this trip, Job had given me a small, glass anforita (flask) of an Arroqueño Celso had just made. Brother, sister, buddy…it was without question the best of it’s type I’ve had before or since. Made that stuff last a damn year. If someone knows where I can get transcendent Arroqueño, please do tell.
Then we pulled into Mogen and his wife Paula Aquino Sánchez’ home and palenque. They are considered partners in this operation.
Hermógenes and Paula both come from a long line of palenqueros in the Miahuatlán region. They grow agaves and distill right there on their land. I’d first tried their Madrecuixe and Bicuixe, finding them both super robust! When I later sampled their Espadín I found it too to be way earthy.
As expected, Mogen brought Job and me into his tasting warehouse and proceeded to knock us out. The Cuixes were what particularly entranced me. He had me try one version and watched me intently as I sipped. He explained that this Cuixe was made from agaves that were “lonely,” meaning growing well apart from one another. Then he gave me another Cuixe made from agaves that were “as a family,” or clustered closely together. He seemed interested to know if I could tell the difference.
Errr. I really couldn’t. But they were both incredible!
In addition to the Arcoíris Ensamble mentioned earlier, I’d also previously purchased what I was calling his “3 Agave Ensamble,” which included all three of the above: Madrecuixe, Bicuixe and Espadín. (Max Rosenstock later told me it had been a cold mix of all 3—as opposed to one in which the agaves were all roasted, fermented and distilled together.) Mogen had 190 liters left, I wanted ALL of it, but I didn’t have enough cash. So he made me an offer: I could take 100 liters that day, and he would store the remaining 90 liters with the understanding that I’d buy it within one year.
I took him up on that deal!
The following year I got those extra liters. For a very long time here in San Miguel people knew it as my signature mezcal. I’d always have a flask of it with me—and would pour them a taste. Eventually mere flasks just didn’t cut it; today I’ve advanced to a nice big mochila (backpack) often full of 4 to 6 bottles. :-) In the last couple of years I’ve eased back on the 3 Agave since I’m down to my last 25 liters—and MAN do I not want to see it end!
After loading up Job’s truck with all that 3 Agave Ensamble and a little Jabali, he wanted to pop over to Mogen’s other neighbor, Don Tomás García Cruz, who is also Celso’s brother. We sat down and sipped with them while Job showed them a bag of agave seeds he had to give them; part of an arrangement they’d had for awhile. They had some lovely stuff, but the Tobalá I liked the most was in short supply, and they couldn’t let me have any.
But I returned to San Miguel de Allende very happy with a memorable haul of artesanal Oaxacan mezcal!
Hermógenes’ Other Beauties
I’d known primarily of Mogen’s Cuixes and Espadín as well as his ensambles. But in the Spring of 2018, Job told me about his latest Tobalá. He said it was really different and beautiful with almost an essence of bleu cheese. Hmm. I ordered 20 liters.
Then after tasting it for myself…I ordered 20 more!
I don’t know if bleu cheese is the right descriptor, but it was just magnificent. Very fruit forward. In fact awhile back I was looking for more of it. Looks like I do in fact have a nice, full 4 liter jug of it. I’m saving it!
In 2020, with Job away, I met his old friend Max Rosenstock of NETA Spirits, and he sent me some of Mogen’s latest stuff. There was a delicious Jabali/Madrecuixe Ensamble, a perfect Espadín, a Tobalá that didn’t taste like a Tobalá to me and another version of that 3 Agave Ensamble—that just didn’t pop like the previous one in my opinion.
Then there was the Penca Larga!
Max had told me he considered it an unidentified species, but was probably a variety of Americana, tasting like roots and minerals. For me—to this day—it tastes and smells like roasted peanuts. It also goes pretty well with a nice cigar.
Hermógenes Vasquez García
Now and then someone here in San Miguel will ask me, “So you made this mezcal?” with a completely straight expression on their face.
Look, Mogen makes mezcal. Me? I’m wildly lucky to be able to taste his mezcal—and even luckier to be able to introduce it to others. If I tried to make mezcal, I think I can guarantee you I would screw it up royally. Mogen and others like him have learned over the course of many years—often coming from a distinguished palenquero lineage. Over the ages they’ve built upon their (and their family’s) experiences and experiments, which means they really know what they’re doing, earning the title, maestro.
I hope you get the chance to go visit he and Paula there in Logoche. I know I’m looking forward to that again myself. Maybe this year?? But if instead you’re here in San Miguel de Allende, do let me know: I’ll be happy to set up an entire Mogen tasting for you! Salud!
Such a good narrative! Let me take you to some other hidden rare jewel awesome palenques :) IG @GraciasOaxaca