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.

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.

Everyday Drinking: Is Armagnac The New Bourbon? Or Is It The New Mezcal?

An exercise in reading beyond the headline. Plus, my picks and tasting notes on 16 bottles for your holiday splurge.

People often ask me, “What’s the difference between Cognac and Armagnac?” (Yes, I exist in incredibly nerdy spaces). To be honest, there as many similarities as differences. They’re both brandies made from grapes, often the same grapes. They’re both made in southwest France, less than three hours drive from one another. At the top end, they’re both expensive. But there are key differences, both technical and cultural. Below, I’ve posted my Armagnac 101.

More than anything, Cognac is bigger than Armagnac. Much bigger. Cognac represents a $4 billion market global market, with 225 million bottles sold each year. Meanwhile, Armagnac sells around 5 million bottles in a year. That means you don’t have huge multinational players like Hennessy or Rémy Martin in Armagnac. Instead, it’s mostly smaller family estates. Most don’t even own stills, but rely on itinerant distillers going from house to house after harvest and fermentation. There simply isn’t as much Armagnac in the world.

That scarcity and local grassroots production is why people often make this analogy: Armagnac is to Cognac what mezcal is to tequila. In the craft spirits world—where mezcal has cool, trendy, insider buzz—that’s not a bad place for Armagnac to be.

That seems to be what some in the industry are banking on. For instance, in late 2021, the venerable brand Marquis de Montesquiou, one of Armagnac’s largest producers, was bought from Pernot Ricard by Alexander Stein, the entrepreneur who created Monkey 47 Gin—which Stein had previously sold to Pernod Ricard. “He thinks Armagnac is the new mezcal,” said Jean-Francois Bonnete, the president of BCI, which imports Marquis de Montesquiou. It will be interesting to see how the brand, which has slipped in quality, will evolve under Stein.

Meanwhile, Stein isn’t the only industry bigwig who’s invested in the region. And a some of the other players don’t see Armagnac as the new mezcal. Rather, they’re banking on it being the new bourbon.

A few years ago, Raj Bhakta, one of the founders of Whistle Pig whiskey, bought the entire stock of a traditional Armagnac house, Ryst Dupeyron. In 2021, Bhakta told me that he’d “transferred the majority of it to Vermont,” where it would be finished in Islay whisky barrels. He released the blends a barrel at a time. “Technically it is Armagnac, but I’m not calling it Armagnac,” Bhakta told me at the time. Still, all of his promotional material clearly mentions Armagnac as the spirit’s place of origin.

Bkakta is clearly trying to appeal to a certain kind of American whiskey drinker, to blow them away with a 50-year age statement on the label. “The American whiskey drinking is dying for something new. He just doesn’t know it yet,” he told me in 2021. But Bkakta made clear he has little intention of educating his bourbon bros on Armagnac when he declared: “Armagnac just doesn’t have much brand value.” I mean, that’s some serious hubris there. But I guess it’s no less arrogrant than taking something a family aged for five decades in the French countryside and sticking in a Islay whiskey barrel for a few months to, ahem, “finish” it.

I’ve written before about this whiskey-fication of Armagnac. I’m very clearly on the record as saying this is not a good thing.

Nicolas Palazzi of PM Spirits, which imports a number of top Armagnacs, summed up the current market like this:

“There’s more Armagnac being sold, but it’s a very specific kind of Armagnac sold to a specific kind of buyer. We’re talking about Armagnac that’s very extracted, heavier on the wood, more powerful, more vanilla. So it’s not very different than the whiskey that people are drinking. We’re selling a lot less classical Armagnac.”

In other words: Armagnac that tastes like bourbon. Still the big question for Armagnac in the U.S. is whether or not whiskey drinkers—tired of ridiculous bourbon prices—will embrace brandies they likely can’t pronounce.

When I think and talk about Armagnac, I am a million miles away from the whiskey market. Gascony is a rustic, agricultural place of small towns that’s famous (or infamous) for the ducks and geese raised for foie gras (more than once been I’ve been served a “salad” in Gascony that was literally all meat). I posted recently about my pilgrimage to some revered small estates. Armagnac is a fragile place, and there is legitimate worry about whether it can handle becoming the new bourbon or the new mezcal.

We love the allure of drinking from decades-old barrels that a négociant—a treasure hunter—has discovered and procured from an elderly grower, or a widow. But those barrels often represent the end of a multi-generational wine-growing family. The numbers don’t lie: In 50 years, the total vineyard area of Armagnac has shrunk from 10,000 to 2,000 hectares. “This tradition is dying,” says Lili de Montal, at Château Arton, with around 40 hectares in Haut-Armagnac. “It’s not an overstatement to say it’s a disaster.”

A few weeks ago, I went to a tasting of Château de Laubade in New York, hosted by Denis Lesgourgues, whose family has run the estate for three generations. It was a small group, mostly people from the trade, and I thought Lesgourgues’ presentation was a good model for how Armagnac might move forward into an uncharted market.

Among the samples, we tasted an experimental bottling made from the rare plant de graisse grape, as well as Laubade’s new 21-year-old expression. That age statement is itself not common. “You don’t see a lot of age statements in Armagnac,” Lesgourgues said, adding: “We’ve been thinking about whiskey drinkers. The price of 21-year-old whiskey is very high. So we feel this is a chance for whiskey drinkers to try a 21-year-old Armagnac.”

I’ve known Lesgourgues for about a decade, and back in 2021, he and I had a disagreement over a Armagnac he released that was finished in Bardstown bourbon barrels. His new 21-year-old feels like a much better approach to meet the whiskey drinker with an Armagnac that’s still got the classic profile. (I recommend it below in my bottle picks).

After the tasting, everyone in attendance split into groups and we blended our own Armagnac from the 2008 vintage from aged samples of four specific grapes: ugni blanc, baco, colombard, and plant de graisse. Besides being fun (my team of course made the best blend; I got an embossed certificate!) the exercise focused attention on the raw ingredients, the grapes and the wine. It drove home to the people in attendance just how different Armagnac is from nearly any other spirit.

Barrel Hunting in Cognac: Unearthing Hidden Treasures in Dusty Old Cellars

There’s a popular vision of Cognac that’s all blinged out and dripping: crystal decanters, tasting rooms that look like jewelry stores and five-figure bottlings. This image is dominated by a handful of huge brands everyone recognizes: Hennessy, Martell, Rémy Martin and Courvoisier—the so-called Big Four, which sell nearly 90% of the Cognac consumed worldwide, according to the International Wines and Spirits Record. But there is another side of Cognac, too. One that’s based more on the gritty agricultural reality of the region.

I saw it on a cold, gray day last winter at an unassuming farm in the small village of Verrières. This was probably the last place I’d expect to find pricey Cognac, but I was on a barrel hunt with Guilhem Grosperrin, among the new wave of négociants whose limited-edition releases are quickly becoming the most coveted bottles in Cognac. We visited one of the 150 small producers in his network, where Grosperrin crawls around old cellars looking for rare brandies.

When we arrived at the farm, four barking dogs rushed out to us, followed by a ruddy-faced septuagenarian who was still dressed from his boar hunt earlier in the day. Cognac is a secretive, rivalrous place and I was introduced to the man in hunting attire as only Marcel, no last name. Marcel eyed me suspiciously, then asked, “Well, does he like to drink?” Grosperrin chuckled and told Marcel that, yes, I liked to drink very much. With the ice broken, we stepped into his dark, dusty cellar to taste from his barrels, which had been aging since as early as the 1980s. “Sorry it’s dirty in here. I haven’t distilled since 2012,” Marcel said.

The nonstop luxury messaging from the Big Four makes people forget Cognac’s origin as wine. We sipped liquid from Marcel’s barrels that had begun as grapes in the family’s 10-hectare vineyard, which he picked, pressed, fermented and distilled. It’s a similar story for the roughly 4,300 winegrowers in Cognac, most of whom grow less than 20 hectares specifically for Cognac production. During his career, Marcel sold most of his stock to one Big Four house or another. But he always saved a few special barrels for himself. “What they keep is for pleasure, or patrimony, or as souvenirs, or for reasons that are not necessarily logical,” Grosperrin told me.

By age eight, Marcel was able to light the still, which he did in the morning while his father tended to the cows. Marcel remembers a wealthy neighbor who’d been a prisoner of war in Germany during World War II. That man wrote to his family from prison: “Cut down all the trees if you have to, but don’t stop distilling. Distill, distill, distill.” After the war, this guy’s cellar was full, and he became rich. Meanwhile, Marcel’s family had to rebuild its stocks. “The value of money is just in your head,” he said. “But the value of Cognac is solid, and you don’t lose it.”

To whiskey drinkers, single-cask offerings may seem like old hat. But it’s a relatively new phenomenon in brandy. Cognac is actually following a model that’s already been successful for Armagnac. Single-barrel Armagnac from négociants like L’Encantada are catching the fancy of American whiskey connoisseurs tired of paying whiskey prices. The problem in Armagnac is that the existing stock of barrels is small and shrinking.

That offers an opportunity for Cognac, where there is seemingly endless stock. Though, as Grosperrin points out, “It’s much more complicated to buy a cask here than in Armagnac. In Cognac, the producers are richer, and they don’t need small independent bottlers. They have contracts with the big houses.”

It’s still the early stages for the single-barrel Cognac revolution, and we’re just beginning to see these bottles in the U.S. La Maison du Whiskey’s “Through the Grapevine” series was one of the first to appear. PM Spirits has done several limited-edition bottlings, and this year has released rare single-cask offerings from renowned producers Frapin and Remi Landier. Last spring, Grosperrin released bottlings in the U.S. for the first time in several years. Importer Heavenly Spirits has released two single-barrel bottlings from the famed estate Jean Fillioux. Vallein-Tercinier and Jean-Luc Pasquet have plans to bring more of their single-cask offerings into the States.

To be clear, at the moment, single-barrel Cognac is still the domain of aficionados, with prices running more than $200 per bottle. But they’re still a fraction of something like Rémy Martin Louis XIII or Hennessy Paradis Imperial (both more than $3,000). Much of the price of those blingy brand names is wrapped up in specially designed decanters. The new wave of single-barrel offerings is something rarer and scarcer. “This is for people who want the unexpected. It’s a different philosophy. It’s outside of the current market,” said Vingtier.

SPIRITS: THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG

BY ANTONIO GALLONI | DECEMBER 08, 2022

It all started innocently enough. Over the last few years, I have seen a marked increase in spirits made by winemakers. I thought it would be fun to taste them and write them all up. That was the genesis for this report. But then more and more samples arrived, and before I knew it, the article had morphed into a broad survey of spirits of all kinds. This article is clearly not comprehensive to any one category, but rather intended as a collection of spirits I think Vinous readers will enjoy.

As I started tasting through these spirits, I wondered if my approach to tasting wine and Champagne would be applicable, or if instead, I needed an entirely new methodology for looking at quality. I asked myself if there are really marked differences between several raspberry eaux de vie, for example. It turns out spirits can absolutely be assessed for aromatics, fruit, texture, finish and a number of criteria used in evaluating wine. If anything, the alcohol in most categories acts as an amplifier of those qualities and also accentuates both strengths and flaws. And yes, raspberry eaux de vie can be very different.

Where possible I have indicated lot numbers, although these aren’t always available in the world of spirits. I would like to see that change so consumers can know they are buying the same product I tasted and reviewed. In this regard, parts of the spirits world share some basic principles with other beverages such as NV Champagne, but also soft drinks and beer, where the goal is to create a ‘consistent’ product from year to year. There are virtues in that, and it is a skill, but I believe small batch bottlings that are differentiated are far more interesting, certainly far more interesting for the inquisitive reader looking for something that is truly distinctive. For now, I have relaxed the rule I have for NV Champagne where I only review bottlings that have a base vintage or disgorgement date listed.

But that does make me wonder what the future is for craft spirits. About a decade ago, I sat in the Krug tasting room with then-CEO Margareth Henriquez and Olivier Krug and explained that I would not review their Grande Cuvée because there was no way to ensure the batch I tasted was the same wine in the market. I suggested adding a base vintage or disgorgement date, which would differentiate releases, make each release special, and then, in time create opportunities for thematic tastings and/or special packaging, like mixed cases. “Our customers have no interest in this information,” was the reply.

Readers might find this hard to believe, but at the time, the Grand Cuvée struggled mightily in the market. It did not sell. And this was not that long ago. For a time, the half bottles were dumped in elite New York City restaurants (likely elsewhere too), where they were sold for next to nothing. Then, Krug began experimenting with thematic names for each release, before settling on the Edition system. A stroke of genius. Guess what happened? For the first time ever, Grande Cuvée became an allocated wine. All sorts of comparative tastings emerged, as did boxed sets that offer a combination of releases.

To be sure, spirits are different. Many are made in tiny quantities and on a far smaller scale than wine or Champagne. Unlike wine, bottles are opened and often enjoyed over a period of time, so comparative tastings are less the norm. Even so, I would like to see better and more consumer-friendly labeling. There is a possible parallel with the world of grower Champagne, where an increasing number of producers detail varietal breakdown and the exact source of their fruit. Why would that not be applicable to a fine source of pears or raspberries for eau de vie, or a specific breakdown of lots in a Cognac? All information like that does is create greater consumer interest.

I tasted the spirits in this report in November and December 2022.

The Eau de Vie Damson Plum from Capreolus is laced with hints of dried fruit, crushed flowers, herbs, mint and red stone fruit. Exotic and nuanced the Plum Brandy is exquisite. It is an especially floral, savory plum spirit. This fruit was sourced in Vale of Evesham, This is bottle 118 of 336.

The Eau de Vie Raspberry melds together plenty of fruit character, but in a serious, almost imposing style. This is not an easygoing spirit at all. Then again, approximately 75 pounds of fruit yield one liter of eau de vie. Sweet floral and herbal accents add lift. There is a bit of angularity and that leaves the Raspberry feeling a bit tense next to the other eaux de vie in the range. This is bottle 257 of 301.

The Eau de Vie Quince is floral, lifted and also very refined on the palate. A spirit of understatement and class, the Quince is soft-spoken, with impeccable balance, fine length and tons of sheer appeal. Dried floral and herbal notes resonate on the finish, but it is the overall balance I am most drawn to here. This is bottle 48 of 116.

The Eau de Vie Poire Williams (100% Bartlett Pear) from Cazottes is fabulous. Creamy and textured, the Poire Williams soars out of the glass with stunning aromatic complexity. Soft contours add raciness to this decidedly polished, exuberant eau di vie. The style is one of sublime refinement and class - perhaps too much for some palates - but all the elements are so well balanced. This release is a total knockout.

The Eau de Vie Reine Claude Doreé (100% Greengage Plum) is a wild, exotic eau de vie. The aromatics alone are crazy. A whole range of floral and savory top notes give the Reine Claude Dorée its distinctive personality. Fruit is more in the background in this captivating spirit from Laurent Cazottes. The bright, clean finish is a thing of beauty.

The Haut-Armagnac La Réserve is very pretty, aromatic and lifted. What this young Haut-Armagnac lacks in age it more than makes up for with its exquisite balance and finesse. There are no hard edges whatsoever. Sweet spice, leather and floral notes give the Réserve notable aromatic presence to match its mid-weight personality. La Réserve is a blend of young Ugni Blanc and Colombard, usually about six years old, aged in 100% new French oak and bottled at 45% abv.

The 2011 Haut-Armagnac La Flamme (Ugni Blanc, Colombard) is a blend of single barrels bottled at full proof. Rich and explosive, La Flamme is a heady, exotic Haut-Armagnac that delivers the goods big time. Here, too, the balance is exquisite, especially for a spirit that is a little more than a decade old. Light caramel, spice, herb, maraschino cherry and toast notes build into the pure, persistent finish. This is a terrific showing. Abv is 50.5%.

The 1994 Brut de Fût is a single cask blend of 65% Ugni Blanc and 35% Colombard bottled at cask strength, unfiltered and with no additives. Gently mellowed by time, the 1994 is a wonderfully expressive Armagnac. Soft contours wrap around a gentle core of macerated cherry, spice, leather, dried herbs and light caramel notes. This is all understatement and elegance. I very much admire the precision here. Spring frost and a dry summer yielded a small crop of ripe grapes. The 1994 spent a total of 27 years in wood.

The Cognac Grand Champagne Chai Paradis Très Vieille Réserve is a single cask bottling from Frapin's Paradis cellar. Hints of smoke, caramel, dried flowers, leather and orange peel lend notable aromatic presence. A Cognac of understatement and finesse, the Très Vieille Réserve is wonderfully expressive right out of the gate. Abv is 42.8%.

The Eau de Vie de Cidre Double Zero is gorgeous. It was made from more than thirty varieties of apples, blending bitter, bittersweet, sweet and sweet varieties. Fruit is harvested, then cellared for a few months to concentrate the flavors, before fermentation and distillation begin. Laser-like in its focus, with gorgeous aromatics, this eau de vie is seriously impressive. A glass will provide pleasure to both the hedonistic and intellectual senses. This is L.20.

The Rhum Agricole Organic is a powerful spirit that makes its full-proof felt. Flavors and textures are dialed up to eleven. Hints of lime, ginger and spice add complexity to this intense, wonderfully complex rum. Although a bit of a splurge, I would be thrilled to have it on my bar for cocktails. The Organic is made from hand-harvested sugar cane, distilled in copper creole stills and bottled at 71.2% abv

The Rhum Agricole Les Mangles is a single parcel, single cane rum. Rich and explosive in feel, the Mangles possesses tremendous depth right out of the gate. Dried flowers, leather, earthiness, herbs and a touch of mint add striking complexity, but more than anything, the Mangles is a rum of textural density. Pretty floral and spice accents round out the finish. It's another intense, full-bodied rum from Père Labat, bottled at 70.7% abv.

The 2009 Single Barrel Fut is a tiny bottling of 12-year-old Rhum Agricole aged in a bourbon barrel. Soft and delicate, with striking complexity, the 2009 is lights out. Maraschino cherry, spice, dried flowers, orange peel, leather, cedar, chocolate and sweet toasted oak lend tons of aromatic and flavor complexity. The 2009 is outstanding, but readers have to expect a rum with a pretty strong oak imprint. Time in wood does seem to attenuate the power found in Père Labat's young Rhum Agricole. The 2009 Single Barrel was bottled at 61% abv. I loved it.

The Armagnac Les Carré des Fantômes is a single parcel field-blend bottling of Plant de Graisse, Mauzac Blanc, Meslier St François, Jurançon Blanc, Mauzac Rosé and Clairette de Gascogne, six nearly extinct varieties. It is an especially airy, floral and savory style of Armagnac, maybe a bit classically austere in profile, but also incredibly intriguing. Light in color, with slightly nutty, oxidative overtones, the Carré des Fantômes is an absolutely gorgeous spirit. It is a beautiful, eccentric Armagnac that requires an inquisitive palate to fully appreciate. Batch 08.

The 1990 Single Cask Armagnac is a fabulous choice for readers looking for an Armagnac with the gentle, burnished character that only comes from long maturation in cask. Soft and engaging, the 1990 is an absolute delight. Scents of dried figs, spice, caramel, crushed herbs, leather, barrel toastiness and dried flowers are all woven together. No topping during aging results in a spirit with gorgeous complexity that develops in a very gradual oxidation that has taken place over more than thirty years. Lovely.

The 2006 Calvados Single Cask was distilled from a mix of more than 40 varieties of apples and spent 15 years in French oak prior to being bottled at cask strength. It offers a gorgeous combination of bright fruit and the more complex notes conferred by aging in barrel, all with the softness achieved with time. Gentle smoke, spice, leather, orange peel and dried flowers all grace this exquisite, wonderfully complex, delicate Calvados.

The Armagnac XO from L'Encantada is a blend of eight barrels spanning vintages 2006 to 1986 from five different domaines. It marries the power of Armagnac with notable elegance and tons of finesse. A spirit with no hard edges and fabulous balance, the XO is magnificent. Fruit, floral, spice, dried fruit, caramel and subtle oak notes are all beautifully woven together. The XO is a fabulous introduction to a range mostly composed of single barrel offerings. The purity here is just superb. This is bottled at cask strength, so there is plenty of intensity, yet this lies on the more refined side of Armagnac.

The Corn Whisky Bota NO 2021 is a single barrel bottling made from 100% Spanish corn from the joint venture between Equipo Navazos and importer Nicolas Palazzi. It was aged for 15 years in an Oloroso Sherry cask, with no topping (hence the designation 'NO') and bottled at full proof. A powerful, explosive spirit, the Corn Whisky is packed with scents of scorched earth, game, leather and earthiness. There's not a lot of subtlety here, but I doubt that is the point. Bottled in 2021.

The Cognac Hommage a Yves & Jean-Noel Pelletan is a tiny blend comprised of one barrel of 1965 and a few demijohns going back to 1925. It is the last bottling from Palazzi's days of buying and blending Cognacs under his own label. Quite potent in the glass, the Hommage is a bit rustic, but also incredibly authentic in feel. The explosive power is palpable. It's a Cognac for readers who appreciate structure and body more than restraint. The Hommage was bottled at cask strength and dedicated to master coopers Yves and Jean-Noel Pelletan.

The Eau de Vie Gravenstein Apple is packed with fruit flavor, spice and strong dried white notes. There's wonderful savoriness and tartness to balance some of that fruity character, along with tons of depth and what comes across as strong skin character. This is one of four eau de vies in Rochelt's gift box set.

The Eau de Vie Morello Cherry is one of my favorite eau de vies in this collection. Creamy and expansive, the Morello is all finesse. Crushed red-fleshed fruit, spice, sweet floral accents and a kick of warmth all come together in a spirit that is impeccably balanced from start to finish. The depth and explosive complexity here are off the charts. This is one of four eau de vies in Rochelt's gift box set.

Rochelt's Eau de Vie Wachau Apricot is ridiculously great. Intensely aromatic, Wachau with almost tropical overtones, the Apricot is so expressive from the very first taste. Yellow orchard fruit, ginger and soaring aromatics stain the palate. It's an eau de vie that deeply satisfies both the hedonistic and intellectual senses. I will remember tasting it for a very, very long time. What a knockout. This is one of four eau de vies in Rochelt's gift box set.

The Eau de Vie Quince starts off quite subtle and then explodes through the mid-palate and into the finish. Strong mineral and earthy undertones give the Quince uncommon complexity to play off fruit flavors. Deep and expansive, with tons of character, the Quince is wonderfully complete, but also quite imposing. There's a ton of power and substance here, with an almost phenolic quality that lingers on the finish. This is one of four eau de vies in Rochelt's gift box set.

The Eau de Vie Mirabelle Plum was distilled in 2009, and then aged in glass balloons, in the classic Rochelt style. It is wild, penetrating and full of character. The feeling here is one of focus and length, more than the body found in some of the other eau de vies in this collection. Sweet floral and savory notes continually open in a spirit of uncommon finesse and nuance. The Mirabelle hovers on the palate with wonderful elegance. What a knockout.

BRANDY - From Cognac to California, the historic spirit’s influence runs deep.

JUICY FRUIT

From vineyard or orchard to bottle and bar, brandy’s influence runs deep.

Cognac, Armagnac, applejack, schnapps—in whichever form brandy is found, these spirits made from fruit have no parallel in the glass. While whisk(e)y, tequila, and rum get lots of love these days (deservedly so) from cocktail lovers and spirits drinkers, brandy is evolving and emerging on its own terms, slowly building a fan base to take this timeless spirit into the future.

We’re taking a closer look at today’s world of brandy—the ways it’s made and appreciated around the world, the details behind its complex production, and the reasons it should be the next bottle you reach for when cocktail hour rolls around.

Nicolas Palazzi

Bordeaux-born and Brooklyn based, Palazzi is the importer behind PM Spirits, specializing in independent spirits such as L’Encantada Armagnac, Cognac Frapin, and Cobrafire eau-de-vie de raisin.

“Something that’s really cool is when you’re in a brandy cellar, with 50, 60, 100 casks in front of you; even if they’re from the same batch of distillation, every cask is its own world. You could taste 15 casks distilled the same day, and you’ll find tremendous differences between them—whereas something like bourbon would be very consistent. There’s so much aroma and flavor profile available in brandy. If someone thinks Cognac is just one thing and it’s boring or they don’t like it, I assure you, I can find a single-cask Cognac that’ll blow your socks off. It’s a world that deserves to be discovered, for sure.”

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.” 

Unicorns in the Making: Grab These Collectible Spirits While You Still Can

It’s not hard to think these gorgeous orange-waxed bottles might soon become, cough, the Pappy of Armagnac.

Just as the unicorn is a mythical creature, the often bandied-about stuff of legends, its mesmerizing beauty frequently discussed but rarely seen, so too are many of the most famous bottles in the bourbon world today. Unlike that spiral-horned equine, however, there was a time these whiskey unicorns actually appeared “in the wild”— in other words, on store shelves — before hunters started taking them out.

L’Encantada Armagnac

While single barrels were generally disqualified from this exercise, this bottler only releases single barrels from a variety of tiny Armagnac estates like Lous Pibous and Le Frêche (with the exception of its excellent XO Armagnac, a blend of barrels usually limited to around 2,000 bottles). If bourbon drinkers are seemingly willing to spend any amount of money on whiskey, the same is not quite true for brandy, even if it’s older, rarer, and assuredly more delicious. (Taste hardly matters for unicorn status — sad but true.) But the tide is slowly turning and two- and sometimes three-decades-aged releases from L’Encantada that used to sell for under $100 and used to linger on shelves for months, are now going for two to three times that and lasting mere weeks in some cases. It’s not hard to think these gorgeous orange-waxed bottles might soon become, cough, the Pappy of Armagnac.

A Whiskey Unicorn for Every Taste

“Finally got to try my unicorn bourbon!” wrote one woman on a dedicated whiskey Facebook group in late July, uploading a selfie where she proudly displayed a bottle of Blanton’s Bourbon.

It didn’t take long for the resident whiskey geeks to, at the same time, question and criticize her argot.

Responded one man, sarcastically: “Who would [have] thought a 6-year bourbon at 93 proof is now a unicorn?”

While I likewise lament the current fervor for once-common bottles, Blanton’s is, in fact, a unicorn, if only because enough whiskey drinkers pursue it as if it were. Even if it’s not exceedingly rare and is debatable in quality, it nevertheless offers many of the criteria that construct the anatomy of today’s unicorns—allocated, boldly packaged, price-gouged.

There are, of course, different breeds of whiskey unicorns, some more rarely encountered than others. These days, most fall into the American whiskey category—consisting of Kentucky bourbon and rye— and, in the smallest genus of the unicorn kingdom, are almost always Buffalo Trace products. Similarly, any Japanese whisky from the Suntory distillery is immediately exalted to unicorn status in the United States—owing in part to a track record of truly sublime releases, coupled, I suspect, with the perceived exoticism of the hiragana characters on the labels. As is some Scotch, especially if it is jaw-droppingly expensive and packaged in such an ornamental fashion that it seems to signal it’s more an object to look upon than to drink. These days, after all, becoming a unicorn only partially relies on how a spirit tastes.

Here are 10 categories of unicorn whiskey you’ll likely chance upon while out hunting.

L’Encantada Armagnac, 1996

The Non-Whiskey Whiskey Collector Unicorns

Examples: Foursquare rum, L’Encantada Armagnac, Clase Azul tequila, Don Julio 1942 tequila

While many whiskey drinkers have a rigidly monogamous relationship with the spirit, there are certain offerings that might entice them to cross over. Typically, this occurs only when those products happen to taste just like top-notch whiskey—well-oaked caramel and vanilla bombs. Some, like the Sazerac-owned

L’Encantada Armagnac, 1979

Corazón tequila, are themselves aged in unicorn whiskey barrels, including George T. Stagg and Old Rip Van Winkle, for example. The producers of these spirits have even begun playing to the free-spending whiskey geek, offering cask-strength, single barrel releases (perfect for sticker labels) in handsome packages and, naturally, in limited supply.

What is Armagnac? Exploring Cognac’s Older Cousin

How Armagnac is Made

“Essentially, Cognac is more like Tequila, and Armagnac is more like mezcal in the way it’s produced,” says Nicolas Palazzi, owner of importer and distributor, PM Spirits, “but not in flavor [although it can occasionally share similar notes with the agave spirit].” Armagnac is a bit more artisanal in nature, and every producer creates a product to their own proof and style making it a fan favorite for spirit nerds.

Armagnac is allowed to use 10 grape varieties in production, but typically only use four: Ugni blanc, Baco, Folle Blanche, and Colombard; whereas in Cognac they use around 99% Ugni blanc. More variety in the raw material allows for Armagnac to express a diversity in flavor that Cognac cannot. When you also consider the terroir — the soil, climate, and hand of the maker — Armagnac truly distinguishes itself in character.

“There is something really interesting in picking grapes and making a product that has a true personality and seeing that product at a stage where it hasn’t become a very popular spirit [like Cognac] that has been modified to try to appeal to the general public,” says Palazzi. “Armagnac is very terroir-driven, it feels like you can connect with the history of the land and its rich history.”

In terms of distillation, 95% of Armagnac production is distilled with an alembic column still, whereas Cognac has to be pot-distilled, Palazzi notes. “Some are using pot still as well,” he says, although it’s a rarity.

After being distilled, the liquid is typically aged in 400-liter French oak casks — typically local, Gascony oak — and is then classified as VS, VSOP, Napoleón, or XO (Hors d’âge), depending on how long it has been aged for, with XO being the oldest age statement meaning the distillate has seen a minimum of 10 years in the cask. It’s also common for Armagnac producers to release vintages, like wine, but this will be more of a rarity as the category continues to rise in popularity.

After aging, the Armagnac is either bottled at cask strength, or proofed down. “The reason why Cognac is typically 40% ABV is to stretch out the amount they’re able to produce because of the demand,” Palazzi notes. “In Armagnac, you’ll find more full-proof bottling because they aren’t under the pressure of hitting numbers so they can focus on creating the best product possible [regardless of proof].” This means that each bottle will have its own distinct character, which isn’t always the case with other brandies.

Some producers to note are: Domaine Boignères, Château de Pellehaut, Domaine Espérance, Domaine d’Aurensan, but there are many others creating exceptional brandies as well in the region.

READ/LISTEN HERE

Cobrafire Eau-de-Vie de Raisin

An unaged blanche (white) Armagnac produced in the Bas Armagnac sub-appellation. It’s an undiluted, unadulterated expression of exactly what a French brandy should taste like. At 51.5% ABV, it’s also begging to make it into your next Martini.

PM Spirits VS Bas Armagnac Overproof

Importer PM Spirits teamed up with renown production house, Domaine Espérance, to release their own label of VS overproof (51.7% ABV) Armagnac. For the price you’ll pay, it’s an absolute steal and must-try.

L'ENCANTADA XO ARMAGNAC

L'ENCANTADA XO ARMAGNAC  - a collaboration between PM Spirits and armagnac cask hunters L’Encantada, this blended spirit is one of the most complex brandies in the world. The release is comprised of four different casks curated by L’Encantada with vintages ranging between 1987 - 1997. Each one was produced by distillers who create in the heart of their fields with a mobile alambic armagnacais still before the spirit matures in oak in Gascony. Only 1,600 bottles are available at a cask strength of 46.8% Abv.