Let’s play a game, shall we? It’s a fill-in-the-blanks kind of activity, where the rules of kindergarten (a place where all answers are good answers, as long as you try) DO NOT apply. In this game, there is only one correct answer. And if you guess right, you’ll be able to go about your day, basking in the self-satisfaction of being correct. Ready?
When I say “Mexico,” you say: (fill-in-the-blank)!
Expedia recently asked this very question during an #expediachat on the Twitter, and I was surprised to see a lot of people — people I respect and whose blogs I love — coming up with entirely incorrect answers! Like Captain and Clark, a vlogging duo whose awesome Maverick project is dreamy and amazing, but who seem to have no idea about the VERY BEST PART of Mexico.
Tacos? TACOS, for gods sake? While they did redeem themselves somewhat by acknowledging the amazingness of the margarita (Even though margaritas are most likely an American invention), it’s not the answer I’m looking for. Other well-meaning tweeps came up with answers like mole, which is a reasonable, but entirely incorrect, answer. It’s true, mole is delicious. And tacos have a delightful saltiness to them, which makes my inner pony (that’s a thing, right?) do a happy little dressage.
But do you know what else is salty? Salt. On the rim of your tequila shooter. And do you know what makes those margaritas so magical, people? It’s the tequila. The answer is tequila!
Which is why we thought it important, when in Mexico, that we take it upon ourselves to explore this important part of Mexican culture. And what we learned was this: just as Don Draper likes to come home at the end of the day and pour a Canadian Club — neat — MEXICAN Don Draper (whom we will call Don Julio) likes to come home after a long day and pour himself a tequila: straight up, sippin’ tequila.
We were staying right in the tourist heart of Puerto Vallarta, and decided to take advantage of our surroundings by wandering down to the marina for a D.I.Y. tequila experience. We pulled up two barstools at a place called Chappy’s, which seems to be a favorite of the retired expat gentleman who live in Puerto Vallarta for half of the year, many of whom seem to do so on their boats in the marina (which I find to be awesome, and makes me want to sail around the world, but more on that next time). Luckily for us, Chappy’s has excellent bar tenders, and Chuy (Chuy is a common nickname for Jesus), who was working that day, was happy to answer our questions.
We spent some time strategizing about how best to proceed — it’s important to be scientific, after all — and decided to order three 2oz shooters — cheap-as-dirt, medium, and holy-crap-are-you-kidding-me — to compare.
Unsurprisingly, the cheapest tequila tasted as such; it was less than $4 Canadian for a two ounce shot, hadn’t been aged, and wasn’t 100% agave. As I feel my writing abilities couldn’t possibly describe my feelings about what I can only call utter swill, I’m going to let Ralph Wiggum describe how it felt to drink the cheap stuff.
Thankfully, things improved from there. The second shot was smoother, with less burn and bite. What surprised me, however, was the expensive stuff. I’ve never been a tequila drinker, always cringing and finding an excuse to avoid it during those ill-concieved moments when someone yells, “SHOOTERS!” But the most expensive tequila we tried — the Don Julio 1942, which cost about $12 Canadian for two ounces — was delicious. I actually ENJOYED it, which is a word I never expected I’d use about tequila. No burn, hardly any smell, and a delicate oak flavour from the aging process. Geoff made a little video about our tequila-ing, which you can ooh and ahh at below:
Now it’s time to share YOUR tequila stories in the comments, and don’t be shy. The messier the better
…I promise we won’t judge!