It will not win any contest for being a quality distillate. And in fact, the inhabitants of the region do not even call it mezcal, but “recycled”, a Mixtec name, they say. But after a five-hour drive from Oaxaca City, deep in the Mixteca Alta, one comes across agave distillation, which takes the prize for giving the true aficionado as genuine a glimpse of the media as possible. and production materials that the Spanish probably found. at the beginning of the Conquest: clay vessels; carriso pipe (river reed); mud and stone still; spray using a tree knot and a wooden channel; fermentation in an animal skin; and, of course, traditional cooking in a floor oven.

Pueblo Viejo is a small hamlet about an hour’s drive from San Juan Mixtepec, along a bumpy dirt road. The quiet valley that leads to the settlement is known as Río Azucena, and for good reason… the Sánchez Cisneros family lives next to a river, a prerequisite for producing recicado in this part of the state.

Nineteen-year-old Hilda Sánchez Cisneros lives with her sister, Natividad Sánchez, 47, and four of Natividad’s six children. The other two live and work in the North Carolina countryside. Fernando, Natividad’s husband, is out this day, doing tequio (community service). Their 10-year-old son, Esteban, and their 16-year-old daughter, Dália, are fully trilingual, because they and their mother spent several years living in the US and consequently had the opportunity to attend American public school. . But here they are, eking out the most modest of inventories, producing recycled goods for sale on Fridays at the weekly market in San Juan Mixtepec.

The family also subsists by growing squash, corn, and beans. It’s clear that meat and poultry are not staples in their diet, which is not unusual for families in the state’s more rural communities.

The creek is an occasional provider, supplying the family with small fish at certain times of the year. And then there are the rabbit, the squirrel, the opossum and the fox. “I know city folks won’t eat small animals like squirrels and opossums,” Natividad explains, “but we do here when we can get it, and it’s actually pretty good.” Esteban proudly adds that you can occasionally run into coyotes and wolves as well, but most of the time it’s higher up in the mountains.

Hilda and Natividad learned to distill from their parents and grandparents. However, during the first years, the plants used in the production were wild varieties of agave that had to be collected by climbing the slopes. Then, a couple of years ago, Fernando went to Matatlán, the renowned mezcal capital of the world, and brought back several espadin agave plants. Espadín remains the only type of maguey grown successfully throughout the state. So now the family can grow their own agave in this fertile but sparsely populated valley, part of which forms the farm. But the degree of knowledge of the family members about the process and the scientific function seems to be insufficient or rather basic.

The appearance of the cub (stem) is the first sign that the maguey has fully matured. Allowing the stem to shoot up and produce baby plants should be the primary means of reproducing the espadin agave. But Fernando and his family harvest before the cub ascends from the heart of the plant. This inhibits its ability to increase the number of fields under cultivation (the plant produces “sons” or children through the root system, but this is a secondary means of reproduction and is not trusted by commercial companies). Equally important is that early harvesting of the plant, by not waiting for the pup, cutting it back, and then allowing the natural sugars to accumulate at the base or “pineapple” of the plant, negatively affects the quality of the finished product.

But as traditional mezcal production dictates, the piñas are baked in a pit about eight feet deep and six feet wide, over firewood and river rocks. Instead of using synthetic material to cover the “oven”, a layer of palm fronds covered with soil is used. However, the similarity between traditional mezcal production and recycling stops here.

Instead of crushing the baked agave with a mule or pony pulling a limestone wheel over it, around a circular enclosure, the baked plant is pulverized with human force, using a tree knot or long carved wooden mallet. by hand to pound the baked agave into a pulp. in a canoe-shaped wooden receptacle five feet long. Four poles (thick, straight tree branches) support a large “bag” made of bull hide, about four feet above the ground. Covered with plastic, the mash is left to ferment in the sun for four to five days.

The distillation is carried out in an area protected by a laminated metal cover, located 20 meters from the house. The family employs four igloo-shaped stills, lined up in a straight row. Created from stone and mud, each one is virtually identical to the next. Starting from the bottom, the opening where the firewood is placed contains a tubular stone that supports a clay cylinder in which the fermented juices and fiber are placed. Steam rises from it into a bottomless clay pot. The pot is covered with a bowl, or whatever else is available for use.

Water from a hollowed-out, split tree trunk runs above the stills and fills each of the four bowls through concave pieces of agave leaves that emerge from four outlet holes in the channel above. As the steam rises and reaches the container, already cooled by the water, condensation occurs. The liquid drips onto another piece of agave leaf, this one stuck to the inside middle of the clay pot and angled toward a small hole in the side of the container. The liquid leaves the container through the hole. A hollowed out piece of river reed, firmly inserted into the hole and pointing downward, ensures that the recycle slowly flows out of the pot and into an urn.

The primitive process reflects many of the steps and adheres to some of the principles necessary to produce mezcal in the most traditional technique. But key elements are missing, no doubt reflected in the quality of the spirit:

1) as noted, pineapple is not harvested at the optimal time;

2) fermentation is complete after only a third of the time usually required to adequately ferment espadin for mezcal production in the central valleys of Oaxaca, although continuous sun exposure helps, as does the semi-tropical environment protected from lowlands;

3) The recicado is distilled only once.

The result is a watery drink with a relatively low alcohol content, almost sour to the taste. However, local people buy and drink it, paying nearly double the price of traditional 40 to 46 percent alcohol by volume mezcal in the towns and villages surrounding Oaxaca City. To be sure, I tried the recycle produced by a competitor on the trail and found it to be only slightly less unpleasant.

On my return visit to Pueblo Viejo, I intend to bring two or three liters of my favorite mezcals from Pueblo for the Sánchez Cisneros family to sample. The hope is that Fernando, Natividad and Hilda take the opportunity to experiment with the production and possibly start distilling a spirit that is more palatable…and with at least a little flavor. So who knows, the family may even start marketing it as a mezcal, leaving the recicado to die a slow, and perhaps even a welcome death.

However, care must be taken not to disrupt the basic media and materials currently used in production. They have a strong attraction for the foodie willing to make the trek to Pueblo Viejo. But more importantly, the distillation principles to which they adhered must remain from time immemorial, to bear witness to the proposition that the production of spirits, beyond the mere fermentation of agave juices, developed in the region of the Mixteca Alta of Oaxaca before the conquest, and independent of the science and technology of the western world.

Alvin Starkman MA, LL.B

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