Nowhere is the symbiotic relationship between fiery alcohol and anarchy better characterised than in the nation of untamed spirits – Mexico.

Inner Ring of Heaven

We are not talking of sissy stuff like beer and wine – of which Mexico produces an array of abominations. The best beer guide rates Mexican beer with lime symbols – or, more specifically, how many wedges of lime are required to make them palatable. The best need three wedges – the worst, the majority, an entire orchard. For beer, read wine.

No! What we are speaking of is the spicy elixir of the gods, the inner ring of heaven – tequila. 

Wine, Women & Song

When the Spanish conquistadors tired of the plunder and pillage of the land of fiesta their thoughts turned naturally to wine, women and song. Whilst in the wine section of their festivities, a crisis struck – their booze supplies dried up. To remedy this emergency they began distilling mescals from the sugars of the agave plant – particularly those from the legendary blue agave found round the Los Altos village of Tequila.

Tom Robbins described the resultant potion thus: ‘Tequila, scorpion honey, harsh dew of the doglands, essence of Aztec, crema de cacti; tequila, oily and thermal like the sun in solution; tequila, liquid geometry of passion; tequila, firebug in the house of good taste; O tequila, savage water of sorcery, what confusion and mischief your sly, rebellious drops do generate!’ Or, simply stated: one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.

It is Mexico

It can be found in pharmacies and hardware stores – in bottles and petrol cans. It is an aphrodisiac and a remedy for syphilis; it is after shave lotion, paint stripper, insect repellent and lighter fluid; it is rough, bold, spicy and crammed with character; it is Mexico; it is brilliant. It is served straight (or with a dash of chilli for the truly insane) at room temperature in a tall, narrow, clear glass and should be drunk in one gulp.

Tequila and good sense are seldom found in the same room – how can they when one sip flips open the top of your head and awakens dreams of joining Pancho Villa in some revolutionary caper? Tequila and games, though, are old buddies. The slammer, for example, is a particularly silly activity, normally forming part of a contest, which involves lifting the glass, slamming it down on the table and throwing the contents down one’s throat. Repeat immediately. Before long you will also be slamming the glass into your teeth.

Cautionary Note

For those who refuse to heed the cautionary notes it is necessary, when you first come round, to ascertain your health status from the persons in white peering down at you. A simple creo que me muero, pero no estoy seguro (I think I’m dead, but I’m not sure) should suffice. If, miraculously, you are still alive you will be nursed with a traditional pozole, a rich spicy soup, until you are once more able to deal with solids.

Salud!!!