BBC: 'Is it for a day or four years?' Tariff uncertainty spooks small businesses

Donald Trump's talk of applying new tariffs to goods from America's biggest trade partners has sparked months of uncertainty for business owners.

On Saturday, the president made good on his threats, ordering a new 25% tax on shipments from Mexico and Canada and raising existing tariffs on goods from China by 10%.

But that has not stopped the questions.

"Is it for a day, is it a political flex or is it something that will last for four years?" asked Nicolas Palazzi, the founder of Brooklyn-based PM Spirits. He runs a 21-person business that imports and sells wine and spirits, about 20% of which come from Mexico.

Trump's orders set in motion threats that the president has discussed for months, striking at shipments from America's top three trade partners, which together account for more than 40% of the roughly $3tn goods the US imports each year.

Canadian oil and other "energy resources" will face a lower 10% rate. But otherwise, there will be no exceptions, the White House said.

Trump said the tariffs were intended to hold Canada and Mexico accountable for promises to address illegal immigration and drug trafficking.

The measures go into effect on 4 February and are to remain in place "until the crisis is alleviated," according to the orders.

If the plans were not a surprise, they still presented a potentially stunning blow to many businesses, especially for those in North America. The three countries have become tightly linked economically after decades of free trade under a treaty signed in the 1990s, known then as Nafta and updated and renamed under the Trump administration to USMCA.

The growth of mezcal in the US, brought in by businesses like Palazzi's, has been part of this shift.

Since 2003, consumption of tequila and mezcal has roughly tripled, increasing at a rate of more than 7% each year, according to Distilled Spirits Council, a trade group.

Overall since the 1990s, trade in spirits between the US and Mexico has surged by more than 4,000% percent, said the organisation, which issued a statement after the president's announcement warning that the tariffs would "significantly harm all three countries".

For months, Palazzi has been fielding nervous questions from his suppliers in Mexico, who are typically small, family owned businesses and may not survive if the tariffs are prolonged.

If it sticks, he said the 25% tax on the bottles of mezcal, tequila and rum he brings in will push up prices - and sales will drop.

"Definitely this is going to impact the business negatively. But can you really plan? No," he said. "Our strategy is roll-with-the-punches, wait and see and adapt to whatever craziness is going to unfold."

Economists say the hit from the tariffs could push the economies of Mexico and Canada into recession.

Ahead of the announcement, Dan Kelly, president of the Canadian Federation of Independent Businesses, described the looming tariffs from the US, and expected retaliation, as "existential" for many of his members.

"Look, we get that the government has got to respond in some fashion …. But at the same time we urge the government to use caution," he said, comparing tariffs on imports to chemotherapy: "It poisons your own people in order to try and fight the disease."

"It's going to have an effect everywhere," said Sophie Avernin, director of De Grandes Viñedos de Francia in Mexico, noting that many Americans own Mexican alcohol brands and Modelo beer is actually owned by a Belgian company.

Trump, who has embraced tariffs as a tool to address issues far removed from trade, has dismissed concerns about any collateral damage to the economy in the US.

But analysts have warned the measures will weigh on growth, raise prices and cost the economy jobs - roughly 286,000, according to estimates by the Tax Foundation, not including retaliation.

Those in the alcohol business said the industry had already been struggling to emerge from the shadow of the pandemic and its after-shocks, including inflation, which has prompted many Americans to cut back on dining out and drinking.

Smaller firms, who typically have less financial cushion and ability to swallow a sudden 25% jump in cost, will bear the brunt of the disruption.

"I'm pretty frustrated," said California-based importer Ben Scott, whose nine-person business Pueblo de Sabor brings in brands from Mexico such as Mal Bien and Lalocura.

"There's just a huge cost that's going to affect so many people in ways other than they're paying a couple bucks more for a cocktail, which doesn't sound like a tragedy."

Fred Sanchez has spent years pushing to expand his business, Bad Hombre Importing, a small California-based importer and distributor of Mexican agave-based spirits like Agua del Sol, and was recently working on deals in New York and Illinois.

But his potential partners started hesitating as Trump's tariff talk ramped up last year.

Now, instead of expanding, he is contemplating selling off his stock of liquor and possibly shutting down. He said he had little capacity to absorb the jump in costs and saw little scope for raising prices in the current economy.

"25% is just not something that we can realistically pass onto the consumer," he said.

Sanchez said he believed that Trump might be using tariffs as a negotiating tactic, and the tax could be short-lived. Still, for his business, damage is already done.

Bloomberg: The 15 Best New Bottles I Tried in 2024, From $26 to $26,000

Season’s greetings, spirits sippers! It’s Brad Japhe, the resident expert on the subject, reporting for duty. As is customary this time of year, I’m presenting my annual list of the absolute best bottles I encountered over the past 12 months. The stable of contenders was crowded in 2024: Of some 322 new expressions sampled, I counted no less than three dozen deserving of effusive praise. Sadly, some of those offerings are just so painfully pricey and/or excruciatingly allocated that I couldn’t, in good conscience, include them here.

Instead, my choices embody a wide variety of liquid across all categories and price points. Make no mistake, you will see bottles fetching four- or even five-figure sums—entries are organized in order of increasing cost—but it’s all relatively available for purchase. You won’t need an estate planner to broker acquisition.

But before we get to the big reveal, let’s recap the year’s major headlines. Beyond spotlighting the shape of the industry in 2024, these news items hint at where we’re headed in the months ahead.

For one thing, people aren’t paying as much for rare whiskey. A recent report from the financial advisory firm Noble & Co. indicated that the value of auctioned scotch cratered by 40% in 2024. But that hasn’t slowed the trend of formerly shuttered “ghost” distilleries rising from the grave across the Scottish landscape, as I reported this summer.

Tariffs proposed by the incoming administration mean your favorite tequila could effectively become 25% more expensive in the year ahead. And a separate trade war with the UK could persuade domestic scotch consumers to experiment with single malts from emerging markets such as India or New Zealand.

Or, perhaps they’ll start exploring American single malt, since the category is finally going to be recognized by the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau, after more than eight years of lobbying efforts.

But enough speculating about what’s coming. Here are my best bottles of 2024.

Alambique Serrano Rum Blend #5 — $70.Source: Vendor

Alambique Serrano Rum Blend #5

There’s more than just mezcal coming out of the highlands of Oaxaca. This artisanal brand from the steep hillsides of Santa María Tlalixtac specializes in world-class rum. In fact, you’ll be hard-pressed to find sugarcane distillate anywhere drenched in as much complexity as this 65.9%-ABV spiced-banana bomb. It’s a 50-50 blend of column spirit, aged for 27 months in ex-bourbon casks, with pot still spirit aged for 19 months in new French oak. Cut it with a splash of water to extend a tobacco and toasted almond-toned finish. Or knock it back neat, if you dare. ($70)

Hampden Great House 2024 Jamaican Rum — $130.Source: Vendor

Jamaica’s holy house of funk never disappoints when it comes to full-bodied expressions, brimming with over-ripened fruit. Although the exact recipe of this annual limited release shifts each year, it invariably involves a blend of rums that epitomize the brand’s signature style. This time around it finds form in a 57%-ABV sipper that wows with an initial wave of marmalade and cranberry relish, revealing more tropical fruit undertones as it warms in the dram. ($130)

PUNCH: Don’t Know Where to Start With Mezcal? Here Are 10 Producers to Know.

In a category facing increased industrialization, these brands are fighting to preserve regional traditions.

In 2023, more than 400 brands of mezcal were exported from Mexico. That doesn’t include the increasing number of producers who are choosing not to certify their spirits, often labeling them “destilados de agave” (“distillates of agave”) instead. With so many options entering the market, figuring out which producers to seek out in order to support economic, environmental and social justice in a category facing increased industrialization (and the troublesome issues that come with it) can feel like an impossible task. 

To help, we’ve compiled a list of brands that are setting a strong example of best practices for others to follow. Many of them are producer-owned, while others source from a variety of producers but have initiatives in place to encourage positive environmental and economic practices and the preservation of regional customs. There are, of course, plenty of other great producers making incredible mezcal in this vein, but consider this list—most of which are widely available across the United States—a strong starting point.

Cinco Sentidos

What started as the house mezcal for El Destilado restaurant in Oaxaca City evolved into an export brand in 2017. Owner Jason Cox has cultivated long-standing relationships with a core lineup of producers in Oaxaca and Puebla during his time living in Mexico. With Cinco Sentidos, he pays above market price for batches and does not pressure producers to meet certain volume demands; it is entirely up to the producers how much they choose to make and sell. Cox also implemented a 10 percent profit-sharing program to help producers invest in everything from basic personal needs to land and distillery infrastructure.

Bloomberg: Your Next Investment Bourbon Should Be a Brandy

Illustration by Nico H. Brausch

By Christopher Ross

June 18, 2024 at 6:27 AM UTC

Bourbon collectors, I feel your pain. What was once a niche hobby for booze geeks has become a forbiddingly expensive and competitive endeavor, what with the annual Pappy Van Winkle lotteries (and heist) and secondary markets where a $2,000 bottle of 20-year Eagle Rare can leap to $14,000 in just five years.

Still, if you love the hunt for artisanal, rare spirits, have you considered pivoting from grains to grape? The warmth and woodsy flavors of single-barrel, full-strength cognac and Armagnac can closely resemble the taste of bourbon, at a more attainable price point.

“Folks who’ve had the opportunity to taste these bottles notice, wow, there’s that concentration, that similar profile of combining fruit and structure from the wood,” says Greg Faron, co-founder of new importer Bien Élevé in Washington, DC. Some vintage brandy can compare in flavor to glut-era bourbon, he says, referring to the 1970s-to-early-’90s period when distillers cleared out older, languishing whiskey stock under younger labels.

Bien Élevé joins established importers PM Spirits and Charles Neal Selections—plus upstarts such as Bhakta Spirits, from the founder of WhistlePig whiskey—as part of an expanding network of bottlers and retailers working with aficionados to build a ground floor for collecting these complex liquors.

Their biggest obstacle? The French.

See, when it comes to investment bourbon, what’s most sought-after are single-vintage bottles, ideally single-barrel, bottled at cask strength—offering a premium of intensity and purity and rarity, traceable to a specific location and point in time. But that’s exactly the opposite of how French brandy is traditionally produced.

Distillers at major cognac houses such as Hennessy and Courvoisier believe the beauty of their craft lies in artful blending; they lock up eaux-de-vie (unaged spirit distilled from grapes) from hundreds of growers to do so. There are strict brandy-making rules around grape varietals, distillation and minimum aging time in oak barrels, but blending isn’t actually a prerequisite.

“I’m French, so I can say this: The French feel they are the guardians of a tradition, which makes them not innovate whatsoever,” says PM Spirits founder Nicolas Palazzi, one of the first importers to bring unblended, collector-bait brandy to the US.

The Cognac region, Palazzi says, is particularly disincentivized to put out the kind of artisanal spirits that US buyers are clamoring for. If a producer decides to set aside a barrel for aging as a vintage cognac, a member of the Bureau National Interprofessionnel du Cognac (BNIC) must be present for its sealing. To open that cask for any reason, including if it’s leaking or damaged, they need to pay for another inspector to come out and oversee the breaking of the wax seal.

Moreover, Big Brandy doesn’t see much long-term strategy in single-barrel bottlings, as it’s only able to achieve its current sales volumes by blending spirit from different casks; the ultrapremium $4,000 Rémy Martin Louis XIII may contain as many as 1,200 eaux-de-vie, some as much as a century old. There are precious few growers in Cognac who don’t sell to the mass-market houses.

Steve Ury, a well-known former bourbon blogger, takes a cynical view of the Kentucky gold rush, so he turned his gaze toward France. He says his steadily growing Facebook group, Serious Brandy, now counts more than 3,000 members. He says American buyers have had to train smaller brandy producers to fill that desire gap between collectors and the conglomerates.

“Their first instinct was, you blend everything, you water it down to 40%—that’s what people want,” Ury says. “And we had to go and say, ‘No, that’s not what we want. We want to see those barrels. Just put ’em in a bottle. We don’t need you to do anything else.’ ”

There’s casks all over the place, all over France, sitting in garages and sheds.

Cognac houses Pasquet and Grosperrin are among producers that have gotten the memo, as well as L’Encantada Armagnac, he says, which can be “very bourbon-like. It’s dark and oaky because they don’t do as much treatment to it, they just sort of leave it in the barrel.”

Reid Bechtle, a collector in Virginia, agrees. He was so enchanted when first tasting L’Encantada’s Armagnacs in 2015 that he and fellow members of his private whiskey club—1789b, which buys whole barrels of spirits—foresaw the untapped demand and purchased three on the spot. Now, he says, L’Encantada’s fame has grown, and its small-batch, orange-wax-topped bottles command such a cult following that it’s often impossible to find at retail. “What we used to buy for $60 is now $300.”

For your own collection, this month PM Spirits is releasing a L’Encantada discovery box ($211) featuring 200‑milliliter independent bottlings of brandy distilled by three different domaines over three different decades: 1999, 2001, 2012. Dozens of years in barrel reveal beautiful tertiary aromas of dried citrus, tobacco and resin.

Cognac Frapin, a family-owned producer founded in 1270, focuses mostly on traditional aged blends, but it, too, is coming around, with help from Palazzi. A 1994 vintage released in May is a first for the maison: single-estate, single-cask, full-proof. Balancing the richness of the wood with subtle orchard fruit, vanilla and leather, it costs $265. Only 500 bottles were made.

Similarly, Bien Élevé imported a single-cask 1967 Cognac Lheraud Bons Bois ($640), perfumed with exotic spice and dried figs and elegantly rounded on the palate. “It’s become more of a focus in France, finally, for single-barrel picks,” says Faron, the Bien Élevé co-founder. Just a dozen of the 132 bottles of the Lheraud Bons Bois were allocated to the US.

I wouldn’t be surprised if major producers started earmarking exceptional casks as well, given that collectible, traditional blends have stalled. The compound annual growth rate by volume of ultrapremium-and-above French brandy was down 2% globally from 2018 to 2023, compared with ultrapremium bourbon’s 22% growth, according to IWSR, a global beverage alcohol data specialist.

“With French brandy, the extraordinary and extensive histories—over 700 years for Armagnac alone—and the tremendous ageability of these spirits, arguably far greater than most whiskeys, should mean that the possibilities for finding great spirits are near endless,” says Nima Ansari, a buyer for Astor Wines & Spirits in New York who stocks about 20 bottles of boutique brandy. Cognac can age longer than bourbon or American rye because of a cooler climate and less char on what are usually older, larger barrels.

But the ultimate factor may be the love of the hunt. As in the early days of searching for bourbon “dusties” on liquor store shelves, there’s a sense of undiscovered treasure out there, if you know where to look and strike quickly when opportunities arise.

If a vineyard hasn’t presold all its grapes to a brandy house, some farmers might have their own spirits distilled for consumption among friends and family or as an investment. “Every farm is a potential producer,” Ury says. “There’s casks all over the place, all over France, sitting in garages and sheds.”

In other words, there’s a lot of potential boutique brandy out there—and it’s all rare. Consider: If an importer comes across the private stash of an elderly couple, buys it and releases 170 bottles, it might be all that family farm ever produces.

For collectors who get a thrill from acquiring a truly one-of-a-kind spirit, it’s tough to put a price on those bragging rights. At least for now, though, a couple hundred bucks ought to do it.

The World Cup of Luxury Spirits: Best Booze of 2022

It’s a global matchup for the titles in best new whiskey, gin, rum, nonalcoholic spirit, digestif and more.

By Brad Japhe
December 16, 2022 at 7:00 AM EST

The World Cup is nearing its end—as is 2022. In service of such, we’re taking a moment to memorialize the best booze of the year. What does liquor have in common with soccer, you may ask? Not a whole lot if you’re watching it live in Qatar. But under usual circumstances, well-crafted spirit, just like the Beautiful Game, is a truly global phenomenon. And just as it’s been a particularly big year for soccer, it’s been for spirits, too, with a plethora of new releases kicking around bottle shops as of late. Over the past 12 months, I sipped my way through more than 150 expressions hailing from roughly 40 different countries. For those keeping score, that’s eight more entries than the total number of national teams qualifying for the World Cup.

For fans of high-end whiskeys, rums, vodkas, gins and more, there’s almost too much to cheer; according to the Distilled Spirits Council of the US, luxury brands increased by 23% in Q2 over that same quarter of 2021. All this is to say, the field is increasingly crowded. Upon careful deliberation and review, I’ve managed to whittle it down to one-on-one matchups for every primary category of spirit, including some zero-proof entrants. But in each draw, it’s up to you to decide which side walks away with the trophy. Let’s get the ball rolling....

Group Gin: Procera Green Dot versus Three Cuts Distiller’s Release Bold Exotic.

Best Gin of 2022

Kenya versus Australia

Procera Green Dot ginWhereas most gins on the market today are made using dried juniper, this Nairobi-based distillery relies on fresh

berries from the native Juniperus procera. Its 94-proof Green Dot ($120) incorporates all parts of the treeincluding the foliage and bark. The resulting liquid offers a pine-forward nose, typical to the category, but itwarms the mouth with earthiness and a tickle of umami on the finish. It exists as that rarest of breeds: a sippinggin. Presented in a mouth-blown decanter of recycled glass, this gin exudes uniqueness inside and out.

Group Rum: Papalin Jamaica 7 Years Old versus Andrés Brugal.

Best Rum of 2022

Jamaica versus Dominican Republic

Papalin Jamaica 7 Years Old rumThis assertive banana-bomb from esteemed independent bottler Velier marks a melodious merger of twolegendary producers from opposite ends of the Caribbean island. High-ester rum from Hampden and Worthy

Park were pot-distilled and matured in their respective distilleries and warehouses before being combined into awhole greater than the sum of its parts, at about $60 a bottle. Ripened tropical fruit is on full display, and yet athoughtful balance to the blend precludes the finish from overplaying its funk.

Group Brandy: Pierre Frapin Cuvée Rabelais versus Suyo No. 1.

Best Brandy of 2022

France versus Peru

Pierre Frapin Cuvée Rabelais cognacThe Frapin family has been crafting cognac in the Charente Valley since the 13th century. Today their estateconsists of 600 acres worth of vines in the grande Champagne cru. Eau-de-vie distilled from this region is

especially well-suited for lengthy aging, as this collectible $13,000 release convincingly demonstrates. It containsliquids that are 100 years old, and yet the XO exerts a spry vitality, pirouetting across the tongue with brightcandied orange and stewed apricot. The mahogany liquid decants gracefully from a gold-necked vessel, craftedby the oldest glass manufacturer in France, Cristallerie Saint-Louis.

The Great Mezcal Heist

For centuries, Indigenous Mexicans have been distilling agave as mezcal, but strict modern certification requirements are pushing more and more ancestral producers to ditch the term to preserve their culture  

by Emma Janzen Feb 15, 2022, 9:00am EST
Photography by Juan de Dios Garza Vela

In the small Oaxacan village of Santa María Ixcatlán, Amando Alvarado Álvarez makes mezcal by channeling the secrets of seven generations of family members that came before him.

Situated on a hilly natural reserve in the northern part of the Cañada region, just three and a half hours northwest of Oaxaca City, Ixcatlán has a population of fewer than 600 people, who call themselves Xuani or Xula in their native language. The village maintains two deep-rooted customs: palm weaving and distilling mezcal (which they call ixcateco) from the hearts of papalome and espadilla agaves. Both traditions serve as a means of keeping Ixcatlán’s cultural heartbeat alive while generating income for the village. Sometimes the two practices intertwine. “Mezcal from Ixcatlán always has a bit of the flavor of the palm,” Alvarado Álvarez explains, because the papery, fan-like fronds are used as a tool during multiple stages of the mezcal-making process.

Underneath the palm-thatched roof of his family palenque, or distillery, which dates back to the early 1900s but was relocated by his grandparents to its current location in 1992, 30-year-old Alvarado Álvarez creates spirits the same way the Xuani people have for centuries. He learned from his father, who learned from his father: harvest the papalome agaves during the dry season when the plants have the right sugar content; shave the spiky leaves off, then cook the hearts of the plant (piña) for several days in an earthen pit over smoldering coals; chop the cooked agave with a machete and then pound it into a pulp with a hand-carved wooden mallet; ferment in bull leather, twisted over a quartet of posts so it cradles the agave fibers and water as they transform into alcohol; then distill twice in fragile clay pot stills that sit over an open flame.

Diversity in agave species, distilling technique, and terroir lead to each mezcal’s unique fingerprint.

Alvarado Álvarez sells his mezcal mostly to members of his community, and his label Ixcateco made its stateside debut earlier this year. (He also previously sent small one-off batches to brands like Cinco Sentidos and Balancan to distribute under their own labels). His process generates only about 1,200 liters every year, a drop in the bucket compared with what some of the larger brands churn out. The orchestration demands around-the-clock care, arduous physical labor, and a reliance on intuition and muscle memory instead of hi-tech machinery — think of it as the Slow Food of the spirits world. But when you’ve been making mezcal the way your father has since you were 15, the methodologies come as second nature. And as a result, Alvarado Álvarez creates mezcal that tastes singular to his family’s style — profoundly savory, with hints of bitter cacao and sweet wet clay.

Many other mezcaleros take a similar path to making agave spirits in Mexico, tapping into veins of heirloom knowledge to create unique expressions that communicate everything from the flavor of the agave varieties that grow in the area, to the materials used to ferment and distill, to the sentiments and quirks of the spirit’s makers. This is one of the reasons Oaxacan mezcal from the village of Ejutla tastes different from one made to the northeast, in San Cristóbal Lachirioag, or to the southwest, in Sola de Vega, for example. And why mezcal from Oaxaca will bear a different personality from mezcal made in the state of Puebla. This diversity is part of what makes the mezcal category an endless wellspring of distinctive and beautiful discoveries.

Yet in many cases, according to Mexican law, these producers cannot always legally sell their distillates using the name “mezcal.” To call it mezcal, distilleries are required to meet specific criteria that the Mexican government established in 1994 as part of the official denominación de origen (DO) for the spirit — that is, a protected geographical status with requirements that dictate virtually every element of where and how it is made. Any liquid that does not meet these standards is often packaged and shipped to the United States under the label “spirit distilled from agave,” or “destilados de agave.”

Machetes are used to chop the spines from the piña of the agave plants.

This situation is not uncommon. In fact, a growing number of producers are embracing the liminal space of “spirits distilled from agave,” exporting liquor to the U.S. that is mezcal in essence but not in name. Several prominent brands, including NETA, Cinco Sentidos, Mezcalosfera, Melate, Mezonte, Rezpiral, and Pal’alma, have never certified their mezcal for the market. In Santa Catarina Minas, industry leaders Real Minero and Lalocura both recently opted to abandon the certification process altogether. And still others, like Mezcal Vago, plan to straddle the line with future releases, sending most batches through as mezcal, peppered with the occasional uncertified batch.

The terminology that ends up on a bottle label might seem like an insignificant detail for the casual enthusiast — it’s all distilled agave — but for the people who have a historic connection to this spirit, what is at stake runs much deeper and is far more complicated than simple nomenclature. The decision about whether to certify is oftentimes muddled by the murky intersection of tradition, economics, and politics. That’s why, as notable mezcaleros and brands start to speak up against the DO, all sides of the industry are starting to ask: Who gets to tell mezcal producers what to call their spirit when their practices are inextricable from their heritage?

Ancestral mezcal utilizes ancient tools like stone wheels pulled by horses or mules.

Today the world has come to know this beverage as mezcal, but the precise language used to describe the spirit in Mexico has shifted over time. Scholars such as Ana G. Valenzuela-Zapata and Gary Paul Nabhan have explained that the modern word mezcal is a Hispanicized version of the name the Aztecs used for chewed agave fibers: “mexcalli,” a combination of “metl” and “ixcalli,” which, when combined, means “oven-cooked agave.” By the mid-17th century, these agave spirits were known colloquially as vinos de mezcal, made by families in villages all over Mexico for community celebrations like funerals, births, and marriages. “Mezcal wine” is an apt descriptor for the agave spirits that proliferated during this time — just as tempranillo and pinot noir taste radically different from each other, no two mezcals made in an artisanal manner will ever taste exactly alike because every area has a different climate and terroir, different agave varieties, and different ancestral traditions.

This dynamic landscape of vinos de mezcal endured until the 20th century, when legal protections started to emerge to distinguish regional styles from one another. The first spirit to formalize in Mexico was vinos de mezcal de tequila, which received a denomination of origin (notably the first outside of Europe to do so) in 1974. As Tequila snowballed into a full-fledged category with international recognition, it brought great economic wealth back to Mexico, a success that prompted the government to build similar parameters for mezcal two decades later.

“The only thing clear to us today is that the denomination of origin has hijacked the word mezcal from the people who produce it.”

By 1997, a certification body called the El Consejo Mexicano Regulador de la Calidad del Mezcal, A.C. (COMERCAM — formerly known as the Consejo Regulador del Mezcal, or CRM) was formed to oversee, interpret, and enforce the regulations, which are called the Norma Oficial Mexicana, or NOM. According to the regulations, mezcal must be made from 100 percent agave in one of 10 states (Oaxaca, Durango, Guerrero, Guanajuato, Michoacán, Puebla, Zacatecas, Tamaulipas, San Luis Potosí, or Sinaloa). It is categorized in one of three classes based on how it’s made — ancestral, artisanal, or mezcal (which is usually an indication of industrial processes) — and the liquid must meet chemical levels the Mexican government has deemed safe for consumption. Namely, it must clock in between 35 percent and 55 percent alcohol by volume (abv), with 30 parts per million to 300 parts per million (ppm) of methanol, among other scientific details.

The first goal of this standardization of the spirit was to alchemize mezcal’s somewhat dodgy reputation (a lingering effect of Prohibition) so the world would know it as a respectable liquor that is unique to Mexico. Like prosciutto di Parma, Gruyere, or cognac, with a unified boilerplate for production, mezcal would once again be considered a spirit of reliable quality and character on the global stage. The regulations also would ensure that mezcal’s name would always be tied to Mexico and not to other countries where agave is grown and distilled, like Venezuela, South Africa, or Australia. “Anyone could produce a drink very similar to Champagne anywhere in the world, but they could not call it Champagne, even if it tasted identical. The same goes for mezcal,” says Alberto Esteban Marina, the former director general of the NOMs. “The international treaty that protects DOs aims to safeguard and give a distinctive status to products, culture, processes, traditions, and, of course, to guarantee these characteristics to consumers.”

The NOM also cements a baseline for traceability and transparency regarding the processes used to create mezcal, an important point considering how mezcal’s bad rap in the ’90s in part also stemmed from sketchy producers selling adulterated liquid throughout Oaxaca. “Nowadays the most important thing about the certification is that you have someone who is checking that the product is actually what you are selling,” says Oaxacan-born chemist Karina Abad Rojas, who is now the head of production and master distiller at Los Danzantes (called Las Nahuales in the U.S. due to trademark issues), and also works with the brand Alipus, both of which export certified mezcal. “There are a lot of honest producers out there, but the market is also full of people who lie, producers who say there are no chemicals or sugars added, when if you were to make a proper lab analysis of what they are making, you will see there is a difference in what they are saying and what is in the liquid.”

Before the DO came along, making a living as a mezcalero — producing only small batches primarily for local consumption — was not lucrative. That prompted many producers to diversify sources of income with other jobs like farming or construction, or leave the country altogether to find more viable economic opportunities. So for Abad Rojas, who also served as one of the first certifying agents for the CRM in the early aughts, another primary benefit to certification is economic. “I wanted producers to become certified because they could then have more opportunities to sell their mezcal on the commercial market. They could sell in bigger cities like Mexico City and Guadalajara, and be available to export,” she says.

Lupita Leyva, a former member of the then CRM (now COMERCAM) who is now working for El Clúster Mezcal de Oaxaca, emphasizes that certification also keeps those jobs and economic opportunities in Mexico. “Sometimes the agave distillates are being bought from small producers and being sent out of Mexico, not even being bottled here. They just pay for the liquid and take those jobs away from the people here. They are skipping our law,” she says. “You cannot go to Champagne and buy bulk Champagne and bottle in Mexico for a reason. We at the CRM, our purpose was to protect those jobs.”

For the first few decades after the DO was established, many brands were eager and willing to adhere to the laws set for certification, which kick-started an infrastructure robust enough to bring expats back to Mexico to reignite the family mezcal business. By the numbers, Mexico produced 1 million liters of mezcal in 2011 — nine years later that figure reached almost 8 million liters, with more than half that volume sent to the international market. While the commercial figures haven’t quite caught up to the impact of tequila yet (in 2021, the tequila industry generated more than 500 million liters), the mezcal category is still well on the path to stardom, thanks in large part to the creation of the denomination of origin.

In the village of Santa Catarina Minas, one of the hallmarks of the native mezcal culture is distillation in clay pot stills, called olla de barro. Typically “glued” together with mud and clay, these hand-built stills crack easily and must be replaced often. The mezcal often bears a delectable mineral quality from its time spent in contact with the clay. This custom has been carried down through the generations at most palenques in the area, including at Real Minero, where Graciela Angeles Carreño and her family have been making mezcal since the 1800s and started making certified mezcal under the label Real Minero in 2004.

“We decided to certify in the beginning because we didn’t want to repeat the history of our grandparents and their grandparents — during their lives as producers, they had to sell mezcal on the sly because production was illegal in Mexico. We decided to abide by the rules so we could legally sell what the family produced,” she explains.

But in the last few years, a series of interactions with COMERCAM left Angeles Carreño feeling as though they were unjustly harassing the brand, which drove her to denounce certification. The last straw came about in May 2018 via a disagreement regarding the use of regional names for agave varieties. In many parts of Mexico, local names differ by village, so when the COMERCAM told Real Minero that the plant they have always called Cuishe had to be labeled as Mexicano and that they could not use the name Coyota anymore — despite that the certification body had previously authorized use of that vernacular — Angeles Carreño believed the organization had reached too far outside its normal purview: “The only thing clear to us today is that the denomination of origin has hijacked the word mezcal from the people who produce it. We cannot use the word, and we cannot freely express our opinions.”

“Real Minero leaving the DO is a bellwether,” says educator and Experience Agave founder Clayton Szczech. “The CRM [now COMERCAM] was not allowing them to put the traditional names of their magueys on their label, so you have this regulatory body telling the practitioners and guardians of their culture that they are wrong about their culture.” He adds, “These authorities are actually becoming gatekeepers toward standardization or a particular idea of what is going to sell rather than being the facilitators they are supposed to be for these special products.”

In many cases, the difference between making mezcal that qualifies for certification or not can lie within a few degrees of proof, or a few parts per million of methanol or acidity. Seemingly small details, but ones that would force mezcaleros to change their customs in favor of creating a more homogenized version of mezcal. For example, the spirits made by Amando Alvarado Álvarez in Ixcatlán sometimes register a few degrees above the methanol cap of 300 ppm. “If we want to hit that parameter, we would have to make our cuts at a higher proof and then bring them down with water,” he explains. “For those of us who live to make mezcal in Ixcatlán, it is a sin to add water. It is against our tradition, which is why I won’t adjust to the parameters.”

On a more practical level, much of the debate around certification also comes down to money: Most rural producers who make spirits using time-intensive, pre-industrial methods simply cannot afford the cost, which some say in the past have ranged anywhere from $3,000 to $10,000. The exact expenses today fluctuate depending on which state the mezcal is produced in and which certification body oversees the process, but in many cases the brand owners take on the financial burden — the majority of mezcal brands sold in the U.S. today are not mezcalero-owned — baking the figure into the cost of the final bottle. When funds are not available for that, the responsibility lands on the mezcaleros, many of whom don’t have paved floors or electricity, let alone the money to certify their spirits.

Producers and brand owners from both certified and uncertified brands alike agree that the rigid parameters of the DO could use an overhaul to better protect the soul of the category. Max Rosenstock of NETA, another uncertified brand now available in the States, puts a global perspective on the matter. “Mexico is one of the most biodiverse places in the world, and Oaxaca is in the center of all that. The idea that there’s just one denomination covering all of this is just absurd. In Italy there are over 300 DOs for their wine varietals, so what are we doing here in Mexico with one denomination of origin for the entire country? It doesn’t protect, it doesn’t regulate.”

“Regardless of whether or not we use the word mezcal, the process, the tradition, in the production of our drink is still the same as our grandparents used.”

There is also the issue of the way certification is conducted. With the COMERCAM as the primary organization in charge of interpreting and enforcing the NOM for many years, some of the COMERCAM’s behaviors have prompted concern and stoked resentment among producers. In late 2020, the secretary of economy for Mexico fined the regulatory body for deceptive and abusive practices. Last spring, allegations of misconduct surfaced against then-president Hipócrates Nolasco Cancino, with reports ranging from intimidation to allegations that he’d demanded sexual favors in exchange for certification. Shortly after, internal struggles over leadership led to the division of the COMERCAM into several new entities, which are currently sorting out how to move ahead into the future.

For the average fan, certification might seem inconsequential because it has no real bearing on the inherent quality of the mezcal itself. “There are fantastic products on both sides,” says spirits importer Nicholas Palazzi, who works with brands including Cinco Sentidos, NETA, and Ixcateco, which will make its stateside debut this year. “To me, it has to do with what the producer wants to make. If the producer is doing things that check the boxes of the denomination to be certified as cognac or mezcal, if it’s doable and the producer can afford it, and he or she doesn’t have to adapt to what they have been doing for seven generations to get a piece of paper being put together by people in a suit working out of a conference room in Mexico City, that’s cool! Let’s certify the stuff.” But even then, he adds, “I don’t see the point in changing the way that something has been made for generations just to check boxes.”

When you talk to brand owners, distributors, importers, and other industry types, tucked into the folds of this narrative lies an instinct to assign value to one camp versus the other. Pro-certification people shout: Certified agave spirits are more trustworthy than uncertified ones! Anti-certification proponents stand by the idea that the destilados de agave route better preserves the spirit of the spirit. Regardless of which side you’re on, it will be interesting to see how the chasm between the two evolves, especially as the industry navigates a new world led by multiple regulatory agencies instead of a single unified organization.

At the end of the day, for mezcaleros and legacy producers like Graciela Angeles Carreño, the issue is ultimately about agency. About who can currently use the name mezcal and who should be able to use the name mezcal. “Agave distillates are produced throughout the national territory, so there should not have to be authorization for a person to make use of the word mezcal,” she says. “That is a situation that, seen from our perspective, is a way of stripping the producers of something that is our property, because it is our culture.”

She says that many people have questioned her decision to stop certifying Real Minero as mezcal, but she does not feel any regret. “Regardless of whether or not we use the word mezcal, the process, the tradition, in the production of our drink is still the same as our grandparents used; the certainty that we give you is that we still have the records, the traceability in our process, and we have a respect for tradition,” she says. “Mezcal belongs to all Mexicans, and as long as there are producers that respect and preserve our distillate and are willing to defend the origin of our drink, the world will continue to taste great agave spirits.”