What happens when you’re several years into a deep and abiding relationship with artesanal mezcal? You start to get creative. You ask, “How can I have MORE fun with this?”
Well Mezcal Maniac Mark Satterfield, who also resides here in San Miguel de Allende, came up with the idea a couple of years ago: hold a double blind tasting to determine (in that case) which specific Jabalí distillation would score the highest among us.
We’ve done this twice so far; most recently with Espadín. The results can be both fascinating and disquieting. For me, the two topics this forces me to consider:
Are factors other than my honest opinion of the taste experience influencing which mezcales I think I like best?
Just how much does tasting multiple mezcales next to each other confuse the palate?
Double Blind Mezcal Methodology
So in 2020 Mark first made sure the methodology for this endeavor was sound. As an accomplished furniture maker in his spare time, he easily crafted wooden holders for five shot glasses, and provided a scorecard for all of us.
Each participant would have 5 different mezcales
Each shot glass would have a different colored sticker on it—but the color/mezcal combination was not the same for each participant. (So a specific Jabalí distillation might have a red sticker for me—but a blue sticker for you.)
Then we’d all be given extra stickers of each color, and place the sticker corresponding to the one we liked best at the top of the scorecard.
Subsequently we’d place the appropriate colored stickers for those we liked less one-by-one, (in the 2nd, 3rd and 4th position), until the sticker corresponding with our least liked mezcal was positioned at the bottom of the scorecard.
So the methodology was thus established. Here’s how the first one went…
2020 Double Blind Mezcal Tasting
I’m not finding the official record of precisely which Jabalís we first sampled, although I know they included one we all still like from Maestro Diego Martinez from Santa Maria Albarradas, one from our friend Placido Hernandez from San Francisco Lachigoló, and one from Daniel and Cosme Hernandez, Jr. from San Baltazar Guelavila. I think we also included one from Los Ocotales of San Dionisio Ocotopec, and one I had in my cellar for years from Don Tomás García Cruz from Lagoche. All of these are in the state of Oaxaca.
The closest I’d come previously to a blind tasting was on those occasions when I poured myself a mezcal and completely forgot what it was. How possibly, right? But it happens all the time! I think, “No problem. I’m a Mezcal Maniac. Let me apply my considerable experience to determining what this is…(sip).” But I’ll be damned if I don’t come up short sometimes!
“(sip) Okay, I’m thinking this is a Bicuixe. No, wait…a Tobalá. But how can a Bicuixe and a Tobalá taste similar though?” Then I remember, and sometimes it’s neither. Hooboy. :-/
Mark’s method gives 5 points when anyone chooses a mezcal as their favorite, 1 point when it’s their least favorite, and 4, 3 and 2 for those in the middle.
So we all begin tasting. Hmmm. Our eyes start darting around at everyone else. Hmmm. We move on to the second sample. Oh, I know THAT one. Hahaha. But after the third sample I’m not so sure about that last one. Damn! And on and on.
At the end, our group scores definitely gave first place to Daniel and Cosme’s olla de barro Jabalí that had been in glass in my cellar for 5 years. It was my very last bottle, and it was magnificent. Placido’s came in at #2, and I can’t remember the rest. The good news is that Mark is now submitting our results to Price Waterhouse for an official audit to be preserved for posterity. I tease.
2022 Double Blind Mezcal Tasting
None of us understand why we waited so long, but we finally had our second double blind tasting at the Satterfields’ this past Saturday. This time? Espadín!
On the menu were distillations from the following maestros…
Gelacio Garcia Cruz, San Dionisio Ocotopec
Hermogenes Vasquez García, Lagoche
Rigoberto Hernandez, Santiago Matatlán
Placido Hernandez, San Francisco Lachigoló
Bruxo #1 (That’s right. Mark threw a wild card in there.)
In my opinion, distinguishing between the Jabalís was easier than for the Espadíns. I swear I did everything possible to differentiate: taking lots of time between sips, moving through each rapidly, drinking a little water in between—drinking a LOT of water between, munching on totopos with guacamole… In the end I was really only sure about two of them.
I liked that Mark threw in the Bruxo. I mean most of us serious mezcal drinkers do shy away from the larger branded stuff, but maybe that’s just a bit of Mezcal Maniac hubris? Maybe in the end it’s actually better than we want to give it credit for?
Nah.
I knew which one was Mogen’s (Hermogenes) and I knew the wild card—which we didn’t know was Bruxo #1 at the time—was the one I liked least. Mogen’s always has an extra earthy foundation—and it indeed was my favorite. While I thought Gelacio’s would be my 2nd favorite, I ended up placing that one second to last! And even though I LOVE Placido’s mezcales, I’ve never been wild about his Espadín. Yet, explain this: I ended up putting his in 2nd place! Oy!
What does it all meeeeannn?!
It could mean that, for one of any number of reasons, something lodges in my head about a particular mezcal—and that thing supersedes my actual taste experience in the future.
Look, as one who woke up from an actual apocalyptic religious cult in his late 30s, I understand how people—especially I—can be incredibly wrong about something and deceive themselves. So I’m open to this being the case, but still—I don’t think that’s the primary issue. For instance, I’ve noticed how some mezcales indeed taste better on some days than others—and I perceive that at once. I’ve noticed how (only rarely) some mezcales will indeed worsen (sour) over many years—and I detect that easily.
It could just be that tasting these babies one right after another is confusing to the palate. (At least my palate.)
I think moving from Espadín to Tobasiche to Madrecuixe to Arroqueño mixes things up sufficiently so that differentiation is easier. But when they’re all Espadíns? All from Oaxaca? I’m only saying some of them bump into one another on the tongue.
It could be I need to improve my tasting game—like Zack Klamn who’s doing a super job with his mezcal based YouTube channel. His descriptions are sooo specific and interesting. (Seriously, Zack… “Bubble Gum Fruitiness”? “Ice Cream Sundae”? “Junior Mints”? Lol!)
But really, I may need to up my game by expanding on that mezcal tasting note vocabulary like he has!
Anyway, there were 7 participants in this year’s double blind Espadín tasting, and here’s how it shook out:
1st Place: Placido Hernandez
2nd Place: Hermogenes Vasquez Garcia
3rd Place: Rigoberto Hernandez
4th Place (TIE): Gelacio García Cruz and Bruxo #1
I’d like to make excuses as to why Gelacio’s is one of the best Espadíns I’ve ever had—and why it should have placed higher, but (SIGH) the results are the results. And Placido, felicidades mi amigo!
As always, if like the increasing number of folks—especially Canadians these days—you’re thinking about visiting San Miguel de Allende, just shoot me a message. I’d love to meet up and drink mezcal with you. Salud!
This is awesome I just wrote a post about how you should taste a lot more and leave all the other factors behind. Blind tasting is perfect!