Mezcal vs agave: do you know the difference?

What do you know about mezcal?

Shottable. Mexican. A smokier version of tequila. A good idea at 2am after four litres of wine. Apart from that… probably not much, right? Let’s change that. Because mezcal — or agave distillate — is a seriously complex spirit, with hundreds of different variations, and we should be treating it with the reverence we do wine. So say the guys at El Destilado, an unbearably chic-looking new brand from Michael Sager and Marcis Dzelzainis of Sager + Wilde and Alex Wolpert of East London Liquor Company.

First, let’s clear up the mezcal/agave distillate thing that’s been confusing you. The word ‘mezcal’ is a bit of a hot potato in Mexico, thanks to official body the CRM. Spirit distilled from agave plants has to conform exactly to its standards to be granted the title ‘mezcal’. This is an issue for all the tiny artisanal producers which have been distilling wildly unusual home brews for generations. Hence why El Destilado’s range of 11 bottles — each made with different varietals of agave in different towns, cooked in different stills (copper, hollowed out tree trunks) for different lengths of time — are known as agave distillates rather than mezcals. This is proper artisanal stuff.

‘The central idea behind El Destilado is that we’re trying to give the consumer the most unfiltered version of that spirit possible, so it hasn’t changed since it came off the still,’ says Dzelzainis.

Also important is the fact that each of these bottles of spirit tastes fantastically unlike anything else in the range. Think of it like wine and grapes: obviously, different kinds of grapes make different kinds of wine. Pinot does not taste the same as Chardonnay. Same goes for mezcal and agave: the Espadilla plant is totally distinct from Pichomel. When you order ‘a mezcal’ at a bar, that’s like ordering ‘a wine’. You pleb.

All of this would be irrelevant if El Destilado’s mezcal tasted like the paintstripper you down at Infernos. But this is more fine whisky than four for a fiver. Tentative tasters should start with Pichomel, an incredibly pure distillate that smells faintly pear and cucumber like. For fireside sipping, try Tobaziche — ‘more meditative’, as Dzelzainis puts it — with a pineapply-pine nut nose and a very long, very delicious, complex finish.

Want to continue your mezcal education? Head to Sin Gusano, the De Beauvoir mezcaleria with a weekly Mezcal Appreciation Society. Or should you ever find yourself in Soho’s Pink Chihuahua and compos mentis enough to slur the name of one of the 50 different mezcals behind the bar, do that. Just don’t shot it, please.