
Chef Lupita
Agua de Chilacayota
Oaxaca's market agua fresca built on chilacayota squash, piloncillo, and Mexican canela, served cold with the spaghetti-like strands of squash and toasted seeds floating in the glass.
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The traditional Oaxacan service of mezcal espadin: small sips from a clay veladora, half-moons of orange, and a mound of sal de gusano. Besitos, never shots. The salt-citrus-smoke triangle that has framed Oaxacan tables for generations.
This is Oaxaca. Specifically the Valles Centrales, where the agave espadin grows in long fields below the cerros and where every village from Santiago Matatlan to San Dionisio Ocotepec has a palenque, a family distillery built around an underground earth oven and a wooden tahona. Mezcal is not a flavor. Mezcal is a place.
The service matters as much as the bottle. Mezcal espadin is sipped from a veladora, the small wide-mouthed clay or glass cup, or from a jicara, the dried gourd. Never a shot glass. Never on ice. Never with lime and salt the way they serve tequila to tourists in Cancun. Oaxacans drink mezcal with naranja and sal de gusano, the worm salt made from toasted ground gusano de maguey, sea salt, and chile costeno. The orange brightens, the salt grounds the smoke, the mezcal carries the agave. Three ingredients, one triangle, and the drink lives inside it.
My mother did not drink mezcal. She was from Jalisco and her people drank tequila. I learned mezcal sitting at the long wooden tables of a palenque in Matatlan, with a maestro mezcalero who poured me a veladora at ten in the morning and told me to take a small sip, hold it, and wait. Besitos, he said. Pequenos. The mezcal will tell you what it is if you let it. That is the lesson. The drink is slow because the agave is slow. Eight years in the field, three days in the oven, weeks of fermentation, two distillations. You do not throw that back. Cada estado, su propia cocina, and Oaxaca's drink belongs at this pace.
Mezcal predates tequila by centuries and is descended from a pre-Columbian practice of roasting agave hearts in earth ovens, a tradition documented among the Zapotec and Mixtec peoples of what is now Oaxaca well before Spanish contact. The distillation step, requiring copper or clay stills, arrived after the conquest in the 16th century, but the underground roasting and the wood-fired smoke are indigenous. Sal de gusano itself is rooted in the pre-Hispanic use of the gusano de maguey, the chinicuil and meocuil larvae that infest the agave plant, as a protein source; toasting and grinding the larva with chile and salt turned a pest into a condiment, and pairing it with mezcal closed the loop between the agave plant and the people who lived among it. The 1994 Denomination of Origin for mezcal initially restricted the name to a handful of states, with Oaxaca producing the overwhelming majority of certified mezcal to this day.
Quantity
12 ounces
100 percent agave, from a Oaxacan palenque
Quantity
2 medium
washed and dried
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1
thinly sliced
Quantity
for the rim of the orange
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| mezcal espadin joven100 percent agave, from a Oaxacan palenque | 12 ounces |
| Valencia orangeswashed and dried | 2 medium |
| sal de gusano (Oaxacan worm salt) | 2 tablespoons |
| fresh chile de agua or chile serrano (optional)thinly sliced | 1 |
| flaky sea salt (optional) | for the rim of the orange |
Buy a mezcal espadin joven from a small Oaxacan palenque. Read the back of the bottle. It should name the maestro mezcalero, the village, and the agave. If the label says nothing, the bottle says nothing. The Valles Centrales of Oaxaca, Santiago Matatlan, San Dionisio Ocotepec, Tlacolula, are where espadin lives. No me vengas con atajos. Industrial mezcal is not what you are drinking tonight.
Slice the oranges into rounds about a quarter inch thick, then halve each round into half-moons. Pick the slices with the brightest pith. The orange is not a chaser. It is part of the drink. The acid and the sweetness frame the smoke and let the agave come through clean. Lay the half-moons on a small barro plate. No fanning, no twisting. The mercado does not plate.
Place the sal de gusano in a small clay dish or on a flat saucer in a low mound. Sal de gusano is a Oaxacan condiment of toasted ground gusano de maguey, the larva that lives in the agave plant, mixed with sea salt and chile costeno. The color should be a dusty brick red. If yours looks pale pink and tastes only of salt, you bought a tourist version. The real one carries chile heat, smoked depth, and a faint earthiness that the agave answers back. Asi se hace y punto.
Pour three ounces of mezcal into each veladora, the small Oaxacan glass shaped like a wide votive cup, or into a jicara, the dried gourd cup. The wide mouth lets the smoke open. A shot glass kills the drink before it starts. Mezcal is for the nose first, the lip second, the throat third. Pour at room temperature. Never on ice.
Set the veladoras at the center of the table with the orange slices and the sal de gusano between them. Tell your guests how it goes: a small sip of mezcal, held on the tongue for a second so the agave shows itself, then a half-moon of orange dipped in the sal de gusano, bitten and chewed slowly. Then another sip. The Oaxacans call these small sips besitos, little kisses. This is not a shot. Anyone who throws back a mezcal at this table loses the next round. Saber cocinar es saber vivir, and saber tomar mezcal too.
On the first sip, look for the agave: green, vegetal, almost like a roasted artichoke heart. Then the smoke from the underground earth oven where the pinas were cooked over wood. Then the minerality, faint and stony. The orange and salt do not cover the mezcal. They draw it forward. If you taste alcohol burn and nothing else, you are drinking too fast or the mezcal is industrial. A good espadin warms the chest, never burns the throat.
1 serving (about 150g)
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