Issue link: https://www.e-digitaleditions.com/i/724773
8 6 | t h e c l e v e r r o o t So you take a NEAT SIP, and the gradual warming feeling in your head is accompanied by a fresh, citrusy smoothness on the palate. This is nice tequila. As well it should be. Over the course of the next several days, you'll ride horses over the farmland, you'll see the clay hornos where the agave piñas are softened, and you'll see the open fermentation tanks, where the microbes in the Amatitán air will metabolize sugar into alcohol. There is no yeast added to these tanks: The liquor is purely a product of its time and place, of the very air that you breathe in this slice of Mexico. But more than anything, you'll get a real, living and breath- ing glimpse of the people behind the "honestly authentic" tag- line that Azuñia likes to promote. These are the families that have lived in the region seemingly forever, doing the thing that has made Jalisco known worldwide. You can't fake this. Even before you get to the town of Tequila, the Azuñia crew wants to give you a taste of the local scene. A loud, boisterous crowd is already in full roar at Can- taritos #1 El Guero. Two mariachi bands, each with a dozen or so players, are blasting away. Young men and women are dancing, and at the bar, giant clay pots of Cantaritos—a te- quila and citrus cocktail from Jalisco—are being hauled back to the tables. There are few, if any, American tourists here. This place is not on the hipster travel circuit yet, and there are no luxury high-rises to attract the resort crowd. You drink, you laugh; you make friendly gestures with the locals, who make you feel welcome. They see you taking pictures with a fancy camera, and they pull you closer to the band. Then they use your camera to take pictures as they hold a bottle over your head and pour tequila down your throat. You can't fake this. After you drop your bags at the hotel, you climb back in the van and ride bumpy stone streets through narrow passageways to the home of Sebastian Cardo- na, the Distillery Manager for Azuñia. There, in the backyard, the entire family is working, putting out snacks, grilling meat for dinner, making drinks for their guests. It is not fancy. "I like to take people here," Riley says. "It's better than hav- ing something at a hotel restaurant." No, that wouldn't seem to fit the modus operandi of this crew at all. In the backyard, we meet Nicole, Cordona's especially ebul- lient daughter. If you ask, or maybe even if you don't, Riley will tell you about Nicole's quinceañera, when he promised to buy her a dress that would be … remembered. Pictures show that the dress was pink and massive, that it rolled and cascaded to overflow the back seat of the vintage convertible that she rode that day. "I promised her the best dress," Riley says without laugh- ing, because this was a commitment that had to be honored. Jim Riley, CEO of Azuñia Tequila, enjoys street tacos in the town of Tequila, Jalisco. Fresh-squeezed orange juice and limes are used to make Cantaritos at #1 El Guero in Amatitán, Jalisco. Azuñia Tequila is distilled at the Miravalle Estate in Amatitán.