Silver Smackdown!


Welcome back to the great Tequila Taste-off!

This week: The SmackDown of the Supreme Silvers!!

Don Julio Silver
1. On deck- Don Julio silver. A commendable brand. At least that what everyone says.. but can DJ hold his ground against our sparkling challengers?

Espolon Blanco
2. Next-Up- Espolon Silver. A highly rated silver from the same Tequila family that won the last Tequila Taste Off _”The Anejo Shoot Out”.


3. Lastly, the mystery challenger-Fina Estampa Blanco. Here’s a youngblood with a very high pedigree that has been talked about from Jalisco to Oregon. Word is, that this classy new blanco is the one to beat.

Challengers: ready & poured?
Judge: loose & languid?

Then let’s begin!

The DJ has some very nice agave notes on first sniff.
Even a tilt of the glass is not releasing an offensive cloud of alcohol. Rather, this silver is feeling VERY nicely balanced indeed. This is quite a surprise. DJ’s very ubiquitousness has lead me to expect the very LEAST from it. I am immediately disarmed. What other secrets will the Don Julio unleash. I’ll take one more nosefull to get a clearer picture. Oh, sweet mysterious agave. You are unleashing some bubbling notes of BUTTERBEAN mixed in with your funnels of agave mist! I would give you a high five if I met you on the street, Don. You are one slick-walking stick!

I’m gonna drink you slow and long, Don. Get ready:

Oohh.. a complicated tongue with a crispy-crackling back-of-the-mouth fade. I’m thinking the fade may be your strongest asset, DJ. That taste went too quickly. This time I’m going to aerate you in the middle of the throw down. Here goes:

I’m almost sorry to feel you go down the “back alley”, Don Julio. You are one fine jockey!. AND – you’re leaving a VERY long finish on the outside edges of my tongue. I think this tongue buzz may be one of your finest assets. I feel that strong butterbean at the center of your taste. You’re lazily swimming on a placid lake of agave & butterbean. What IS this BUTTERBEAN flavor? I have never HAD a butterbean, but you are definitely harking back to a 1930’s “butterbean” blues solo. Don Julio, how old “ARE” you?
Your crackling burn is all in the mouth and none in the throat. I am feeling a very excitable and pleasurable stampede of tiny barbs on the edges of my tongue. Don Julio, you have impressed me with your unexpected bravery. You have a candy sweet come-on and you leave a pleasant alcohol “jab”.. MANY jabs, in fact. I’m glad you’re pleasurable because you’re so DAMNED prevalent in every bar that will still serve me.

Good to have a close friend nearby. Thank you, Don.

I’m eyeing you, Espolon. You have quite a reputation to live up to. Your Anejo “Grandfather” took me to the far green fields of West Marin.. where I lay with the sheep.

And I LOVED it.

I am not a “pasture boy” willingly, yet the mighty Espolon warrior took me there with aplomb and left me there to lie in the grass and dream. I have pulled back the curtains. I’m STARING at you, Espolon. The spotlight is glaring on your diamond-gleam bottle. I sniff:

Espolon you are being COY with me. You are giving up VERY LITTLE in your aroma. I am feeling a guardedness about your agave roots. I innately feel something smooth and powerful is tucked into that alcohol cloud but you aren’t going to give it away to me that easily, are you? Espolon, you are going to make me undress you with my nose aren’t you? You TEASE, Espolon! Your teasing only makes me want you more (and you know this, of course..) Like a junkie, I return to sniff:

It’s no use. There’s nothing more than the first time I “eyed” your nose .. you refuse me, Espolon. This is a very dangerous game. You’d better have something down there to back up all of this mystery. Here we go.

Wait.. I’ll wash my palate first.. DAMN! That DJ has NUMBED my tongue somewhat. Go back to your room, DJ! You were impressive but don’t be an ass-kisser.

And now, Espolon, I drink!

Whoa… Espolon you are wearing stiletto heels and you are SPIKING me all through the journey from teeth to tummy. So that is your game? I immediately take you in my grip and force another sip:

There’s a bitter sharp crest to your taste and you leave a spiky sharp tang all the way through your passage. But there’s no SOUL at your center. In fact there’s very little of ANYTHING at the center of your flavor cloud, Espolon. All of your taste is on the fringe. I am surprised at this flavor ‘portrait’ and I am not completely enamored. Espolon, do you treat all your suitors in this fashion? This whole S &M thing is a bit too trendy for me. I don’t think I want to have to dress up like this all of the time. I’m forcing another taste from you, Dammit… give me EVERYTHING NOWW. Do IT!!

Espolon you have no soul. You are a tarted-up cheat ; all leather and brass eyelets.. but to what end, I ask? I have undressed you with my tongue only to find more leather and more brass. Espolon, you are a caricature of a full-bodied Tequila. I fear you may have had “work” done. I’ll finish my drink of you, but I won’t tell your grandfather what you’ve been up to and how you dress. He deserves better from you.

A quick palate refresh and I am face to face with the “final stamp”.

Fina, you have intrigued me from the first, my Equine friend. From bottle to wooden holder you are one high-class presentation. I didn’t want to expose this, but I actually cracked open your seal about 2 weeks ago. I stole a sinful sniff; just to see if I could get a “handle’ on your nose profile.. and I was presented with a MIGHTY funnel of agave fragrance. Fina, you have good breeding. This is obvious. I have also heard that there may be a “rock’ in your upbringing. Have you been born under tons of granite? And will you give up your mineral birthright from the first taste that passes through? I wonder about you FE.. I approach you chest out and eye-cocked. I sniff:

Full, rich agave. You ARE from the Earth, my steed! I smell the Mother in your nose and I sense a deep and feral past in your history. Tell me a story from ancient times; I sniff again!

You ARE from the desert and your agave nose is imploring me to taste. I think you are a “talker” and not a “smeller” my sturdy steed! You want to talk? Then I am going to ride you, Estampa, I am going to ride every ounce of taste from your loins.. I grab ahold of your mane. I hoist myself up and I kick.. I drink!

HA! Did you catch that, my Fina? I actually caught myself SMILING just as my lips parted and I sipped you. Delightful! You are a VERY complex and conversational friend. You are telling me about the deep red desert soil. You aren’t content to speak about the happenings of man ATOP the soil.. you want to talk to me about the sordid mineral past of my ancestors.. don’t you? So be it! I’ll take another drink and listen closely:

That was a big sip.. and there was NO harshness or spiky burn. Fina, this could be a bit treacherous for me, because you are damned difficult to find out here in the “above-the-soil” world where I live. Please let me find some major fault with you! I’ll drink you until I find your weakness, damn you! I kick HARDER with my razor-sharp spurs:

Fina you are blowing CENTURIES of minerals up my nose and through my tongue and finally down my throat. I don’t know if I’ve ever tasted such a thickly mineral mélange. There seem to be a thousand chemical conversations going on within every sip of your swollen nectar. I don’t know if I’m smart enough to have this conversation with you, Fina. But Dammit! I will try for YEARS until I rise to your level of consciousness.

Class begins tonight my Fina life-coach. Let us start with lesson one….

Fina Estampa Blanco!!


Blanco Bottom Feeders


Battle of the Blanco Bottom-Feeders

Welcome back, friends, fiends, and fanatics!  Tonight we hook-up a blanco “battle of the bottom – feeders”.

As always, I am your intrepid host and Tequilero, “Senor Leepee”.  Color me desperate for an interesting “one-on-one” conversation with the major Tequila players of our day.

First up:

Don Eduardo Blanco

Don Eduardo blanco.  I had a smatter of driblets from the Don Eduardo spigot many months ago at an upscale Mexican restaurant / bar.  I don’t remember what he showed me that evening.  What will he present tonight?


OrodeJalisco Blanco

Oro  de Jalisco blanco.  A very nicely hand-crafted “Genie” bottle holds Oro’s spiritual secrets.  Whisper your deep truths in my ear, Oro.  Confess that you are more complex than your “loud” glass wardrobe advertises.


Corzo Silver

Corzo silver.  You’ve got a lot of “cognitive dissonance” to overcome, Corzo.  Your bottle looks like an 80’s perfumery reject.  A Calvin Klein wannabe toss-away.  It is unfortunate that your bottle SCREAMS “vapid social-climber”.  Then again, maybe looks are deceiving and I’ll warm to your hardened high-tech veneer.

I’m eyeing the field cautiously.  I gotta say, NONE of these contenders is really calling to me.  I’m waiting for a sign..  I think I’ll sniff you all.

Oro, you’re giving me the most vegetal nose, I think you’ll be my virgin sacrifice this evening.  Another sniff:  I’m getting a heady caramel and agave mixture.  Not too sweet, rather an interesting combination of sweet Earth and roasted agave.  This could be the surprise I was hoping for.  I hesitate.. then actually bring you to my lips.

A strange wateriness enveloped in a tangy spike of alcohol burn. I gotta tell ya, fellah.. if that’s the best you can do we’re BOTH in for a long evening tonight.  Another sip: You’ve got a thin mouth and a short finish with a burn the entire length of the throat & gullet.  Is this any way for a premium Tequila to converse?  Feels like you’re in a BIG HURRY to get away from my tongue and its tasting family.  Where’s the FIRE, Oro?

Oro, you have a nice nose, I’ll give you that.  After a few sips you DO settle in to something drinkable if not too exciting.  But damnit, it’s excitement I’m after tonight!  Where is the brain-cleanser I need to wash away the turgid details of a day spent absently web-surfing and hitting the refresh key like a mindless monkey-drone?  Yes… I know that’s MY problem, not yours, Oro.. but you aren’t doing a damned thing to help the situation.  Pal, you’re an astringent alcohol overlord, larded up with even MORE alcohol and not much else.  This ain’t a Vodka bar, buddy-boy.  I had higher hopes after being slightly aroused by your enticing nose.

Don Eduardo, give me something to hold on to.  I didn’t realize how desperate I was this evening.  I think the world is falling apart and I’m wondering if your silky sluice can act as a cohesive consciousness.  A sniff to keep me together: OW!  There’s a yeasty sweet-sickness in your nose that’s depressing me.  This isn’t going to be a fun conversation is it?  I don’t want to scold you, Don Eduardo, but you may leave me no recourse:

UGH!  You taste like oily perfume!  Don you have been given a false voice box!  Your conversation is as artificial as a scrotum graft on a philodendron.  No one BELIEVES you, Don Eduardo!  I’ll force myself to have one more interlude:

No good.  Your flavor has been as manipulated as a yellow tub of “breakfast spread” in a sorority house refrigerator.  I don’t know whether to drink you or WEAR you on my wrist, Don?  You are one confused fukking Tequila.  Be gone.  My patience wears thin.

Corzo I had mistakenly assumed that YOU had the perfume cross-gender confusion for the evening.  Please rescue me from this meaningless drone of inconsequential conversation.  I’m begging for a bit of deep conversation here, my friend.  Don’t disappoint me.  Come closer and let me sniff:

Um.. Corzo.. this is NOT looking good.  You smell like PLAYDOH, lad.  Not a promising sign.  I’m coming in VERY close for an intimate reveal of your olfactory offerings:

What can I tell you my immature Toddler?  You smell like an abandoned pre-school playroom.  There’s nothing else in there.  What will we talk about, monkey bars and jungle gyms?  I had hoped for something remotely more refined… say, World Peace?  I taste:

A bust.  Corzo, you’re speaking in a language I have never heard before and I don’t understand a word.  There is a blandness at the bottom of your flavor profile, while on the top layer you slide around a sweetish-tang of oily claptrap

.  Oh, what’s the point?  Life is too short you tongue-tied trifle.  I’m going to drink the rest of you just for spite!  A heady buzz is the only intellectual medicine I’m going to receive this night.

Yes!  Yes, drink it all up and in.  Is there any promise for the future of this world?  I entered the land of the bottom-feeders and succumbed to their depressing monotony.

Waiter!  Check, Pronto!

Winner:  (-by a yawn- )  Oro de Jalisco.


A Paen to Fina Estampa Blanco


A Paean to Fina Estampa blanco

Seduced by the aroma of your Gouda and Pine Nut, I exalt you

To your wicked roundabout knowing ways, I follow you.

Equine taxi to places of wonder, allow me your secret mineral visions:

A riddle of ancient symbols unlocking flight

A cave of crystals blinding in their endless light

A Reidel of ocean so clear and bright

Fina, Fina born to sweet delight.

Stallion of plenty, and messenger of the Master.

You are the last beacon in a twilight of visions:

Star-cape with hooded cowl

Desert flower bloomed atop dusty mound

Mineral elixir of a thousand voices

Bulls-eye target amongst a thousand choices.



Blanco Battle!

TequilaFight Ver. 3.0: The Blanco Battle!

Welcome back, my friends, to the tasting that never ends!  This time we’re up for another blanco taste-off.  We’re pitting two middleweights against a relatively (to me, anyway) unknown.

First up is the mystery brand: “30-30”.


100 % blue agave of course, but I don’t know a whole lot more about him.

Next in line is “Herencia de Plata” silver.


A quiet contender whom I HAVE heard a small bit about.. and most of it good.  He’s not so easily accessible, but whenever I’ve read a few notes about his profile I get more and more intrigued.

Lastly we have the phallic, “Chaya” silver.


It’s hard not to notice THIS bad boy.  His big blue bottle certainly gives him a top-rated “shelf appeal”.  He’s an easy pour, but I WILL say there is a bit of trepidation as I grip that solid blue package in my hands..  (Am I liking him too much already?)

OK!  The battle is ON!

I’m circling the contenders looking for an opening.  Which silver will afford me the sliver of an opening?  I make my move.  I’m hurrying up to the 30-30.  I will tell you straight off, 30-303.  You’re the least anticipated of the group, and I did sneak a small sniff when I poured you.  I’m confused about your capabilities.  I cup you in hand and sniff:

You’re giving me a thin nose with a sharp alcohol attack.  I’m not noticing any appreciable amount of agave in your aroma.  Will you open up your drawer of secrets for me, 30-30?  One more sniff is all I can afford you.  Make it count you cardboard-hearted mannequin!  AH!  A secret peppermint sweetness that I missed the first time!  You coy, circular spirit!  I will drink you and dream as you do a circular dance on my tongue.  I am hoping for a sweet daydream…

Ugh.. a disappointment.  30-30 I found NOTHING to taste!  Did you quickly spirit yourself away and leave a hollow doppelganger in your place?  There was a wisp of some burn seeping down the back of my throat.. but I can’t count that as a taste.  You’re a strange and troubled child, 30-30.  Your nose is actually more complex than your taste!  Your guardian has dressed you but there’s nothing underneath your garments!  How can this be?  I will forcibly take you and DEMAND some taste from you:

NOTHING!  I’m experiencing a watery injustice every time I clench my epiglottis.  30-30 you are the “Archies” of the puro set.  No, you’re even LESS impressive than that.  I find no reason to drink you, 30-30.  I may even leave your glass as it stands.. half-empty (horrors!).

Allow me to wash some agua down to erase the watery insults I have been handed by the last ignoble contender.  I have a temper rising and a storm brewing.  That 30-30 has put me in a foul funk!

Herencia.. I call your name!  Will you show me a similar disrespect or will you present the full blossom of your promise?  A sniff to introduce ourselves:

You are a sweet, nutty, cinnamon confection, Herencia.  I’m getting a bright sunny afternoon on a secluded hilltop feeling.  Are you bottling that sunshine?  Will you give an inner glow after I’ve tasted your soiled blades of grass?  Ha!  I’m insulting you good-naturedly in the hopes that you’ll be goaded into showing me your loudest sunny façade!  Open up you sinner!  I’m coming in for another sniff:

I’m not certain where you’re coming from and where you’re going to take me, Herencia.  Your nose isn’t SO forceful as to present an entire picture let alone a universe to me.  I wonder/hope: is there something beyond the shiny exterior you’re presenting?  I’ll slurp you in an unjust manner:

Peppery!  You beautiful bastard!  You are hiding a peppered SOUL in your mirrored overcoat of cinnamon and glass.  I’m staring into space.  I’m allowing your pepper to subside while I contemplate more sips from your tangy underbelly.  I know you’re secretly smiling, Herencia.  You knew all along that you were packing something unexpected, yes?  If you would do me the honor of another taste, I would be ever grateful and (this time) submissive:

Floral!  I felt you sneak just a fashion of floral notes into that last “profile”.  I’m envisioning a gorgeous sunny hilltop covered with peppery blossoms and wildflower fantasias flirting at the corner of my eye.  I don’t know if I dare for a third taste my new friend.  You have already taken me to a wonderful vantage point from which to ponder my next few life-moves.  Am I asking too much for another vista?  No matter!  I DEMAND another taste as I have tamed you now and you belong inside me:

Same scene.

Herencia, there is a subtle command in you that I respond to favorably.  You are easily a worthy “conversationalist” but I wonder if I’d grow tired of the same pastoral scene time after time?  I long for a more complex discourse, my serene compadre.  I will seek you out as long as your sale price fits within your status.

A quick wash through, and I am clicking my teeth in anticipation of my solid blue stallion.  Chaya, your thick bottle has given me the pour with the most girth.  I respect your hearty load, and pray that it delivers a sensation equal to its manly heft.  A sniff:

Ohhh yes!  I am reveling in a gummy, thick, agave musk.  Chaya, do you have a “rock” in your history?  If so it would only be fitting for a Stallion of such engorged proportions.  You have a wet and round nose profile, sir. I’m smelling wet cement with peppery fruit. I am thoroughly engaged.  I’m stepping right up for my “punishment”.  Don’t hold back on the taste – give it all to me in one thick blast:

Wow!  That was a lot of flavor, tongue action, and alcohol brandishment all at the same time.  I like your complexity, Chaya!  A quick rinse and I am game for another round:

Damn, Chaya!  You could go all night with your complex and piquing “conversations” couldn’t you?  You’re the porn star of silvers. I think I’ll try one more chewy taste of your sweet nectar, Chaya – hit it:

Yes!  Ha ha!  That was a great mouthful of thick peppery washes.  Whew!  What did you say your name was, stranger?

I’m not embarrassed about handling your attentive phallic package if you don’t gloat over my lack thereof.  I am yours for the evening, Chaya.  I can see that you and I will be having plenty to talk about over the years.  Teach me to stand tall.


Chaya Silver!!