I was at the Williams-Sonoma near Casa del Garrett, explaining to the nice lady behind the counter that, yes in fact, a good tequila is worth not only spending serious money on, but savoring slowly, and in just the right glass.     Last New Year’s week I was served an absolutely wonderful glass of Don Julio 1942 in the tequila bar in Epcot Mexico.   American tequila affectionados seem to like Patron, but I am told Don Julio is what the tequila connoisseurs of Mexico drink.   If you think Jose Cuervo is synonymous with tequila then I am sorry for you.

Behind the bar at La Cava del Tequila in Disney’s Epcot Mexico

Behind that bar in…Disney World of all places…are some of the best, most expensive tequilas Mexico exports.   But Walt Disney believed that this world would be a better place the more we all got to know each other, and shared with one another the best of our lands and ourselves.   And as I said, if all you know of tequila is the house rot they sell at the local bar then you do not know tequila…or Mexico.   The tall thin bottle on the top row near the center (it’s supposed to be shaped a bit like a leaf of the agave plant) is the Don Julio 1942.   I spent $25 dollars for a little bit of the rare stuff served in a glass that resembled a champagne glass, but to a smaller scale.   It was decadent, and for the first time I really understood how the right glass is absolutely necessary to the experience.   When the distiller works that hard to produce perfection, and succeeds so…well…perfectly, you need a glass that captures the delicate aromas and presents them as you drink.   I walked out of there with a new appreciation for all that funny glassware I kept seeing in the wine glass section of Williams-Sonoma.

So there I was, trying to explain to the nice lady behind the counter why I’d been searching for just the right tequila glasses, and was so delighted to finally find a set at her store.   I’d searched everywhere and turned up nothing like the glasses I’d been served with at La Cava del Tequila.   Some had come close, but none of them were just right.   Then I happened on a set that, thankfully for me was on deep sale.   The normal price was $70 a glass, but they were on sale for $17 each.   I’m assuming it was a product line Williams-Sonoma was discontinuing.

The lady behind the counter quizzed me about the tequila I’d had at La Cava del Tequila that had made me want to spend so much money on a bottle, let alone go to all the trouble to get the right set of glassware for it, as if it was some sort of fine wine or Cognac.   I tried to explain but was never able to get past that slightly astonished look on her face, and I realized that the concept of high end tequila is probably a difficult one for most Americans, if not most everyone else outside of Mexico.

One tequila,
Two tequila,
Three tequila,
Floor…

If demon rum is the devil’s drink, tequila is probably Tezcatlipoca’s.   At least to the American puritan.   And the stuff generally sold to American consumers doesn’t do much for its reputation.   I told a co-worker the other day, a young collage student, about how much I liked the tequila bar in Epcot Mexico and his first reaction was to be a bit astonished that tequila could be anything but a really bad hangover.   Actually I’ve never had a hangover after drinking fine tequila.   But the house rot they sell during happy hour most places will probably give you one just looking at it.

Computers have enabled people to make more mistakes faster
than almost any invention in history, with the possible exception
of tequila and hand guns.
-Mitch Ratcliffe

So I got my tequila glasses home and discovered something else.   Fine glassware is intimidating.   Swear to god the moment I picked one up and felt its delicate perfection in my fingers (remember, these tiny little glasses originally sold for $70 each), I was a bit awed, and a bit terrified.   I have never felt glass like this in my hands before. Ever.   So…delicate…yet so perfectly made.   I had to get the stickers off and then clean them and that isn’t easy when you are scared to death you’re going to break one every time you hold one in your hand, let alone pick it up and move it.   I decided the dishwasher would not do and I hand washed them and I swear the only thing I felt safe washing them with was with my fingertips in soapy water.   I didn’t dare rub a rough dishcloth over them.   I got out the good dish rack and for the first time ever made use of its wine glass hangers to let them dry.   I am not kidding, just picking these things up and moving them around scares me.

But…if you gently (very gently!) tap the edge of one of these glasses, it sings a beautiful, perfect note.   These are just the right glasses to serve my Don Julio 1942 in.

I think this could be my first 200 point review…People give me booze for Christmas. I mean, everyone I know does it, even the ones who don’t know everyone else does it. This should probably tell me something about myself, but fuck it.

So this year, among other outstanding bottles which will also be reviewed, a friend dropped off a bottle of Don Julio 1942, and all I can say is Holy Shit.

Holy Shit.

The box states that this tequila is the lifetime achievement of the Don Julio distillery, which may seem a bit much; but a glass and a half into it and I’m starting to see how they could make this claim. Don Julio 1942 is a perfect tequila. No, actually, it’s a perfect spirit, period.

Oak’s apparent in the nose, straight away, but it doesn’t whap you upside the head with it… it’s just a high-level whiff that gives way immediately to the heady vanilla body with just a hint of caramel. The vanilla carries over to the glass, and it’s surprising in the first taste. The agave is unbelievably balanced, the sugars so perfectly apparent in the glass, but not overpowering. It drinks like wine. In fact… it would be way too easy to drink half this bottle right here and now; though this is one I think I’m going to have to make stretch– there are just too many people I want to share it with. But don’t get me wrong here, it’s tequila through and through– this isn’t some fluffy shit– it’s just unbelievably mellow. I’ve never tasted a tequila like this. This is the kind of tequila you could serve at a meeting between the President of Mexico, the head of the Tijuana cartel and the head of the CIA and none of them would kill anyone, lie or any make covert deals until the bottle was done. In fact, they might not even talk until the bottle was done– too much of a distraction.

-Booze Reviews, Don Julio 1942