The Great Mezcal Robbery

InIn the quaint Oaxacan village of Santa María Ixcatlán, Amando Alvarado Álvarez crafts mezcal by drawing upon the ancestral knowledge of seven generations of his family.

Nestled in a hilly natural reserve in the northern Cañada region, about three and a half hours northwest of Oaxaca City, Ixcatlán is home to fewer than 600 residents, who refer to themselves as Xuani or Xula in their native tongue. The village upholds two rich traditions: palm weaving and the distillation of mezcal (referred to as ixcateco) from the hearts of papalome and espadilla agaves. These customs not only preserve Ixcatlán’s cultural identity but also provide economic support for the community. Often, the two crafts are intertwined. 'Mezcal from Ixcatlán always carries a hint of palm flavor,' Alvarado Álvarez explains, as the fan-shaped fronds are utilized throughout the mezcal-making process.

Beneath the palm-thatch roof of his family palenque, or distillery, which was originally established in the early 1900s and relocated by his grandparents in 1992, 30-year-old Alvarado Álvarez produces spirits using methods passed down through generations of Xuani people. He learned the craft from his father, who in turn learned from his own. The process begins with harvesting the papalome agaves during the dry season, when they achieve optimal sugar content; then, the spiky leaves are trimmed, and the hearts (piña) are slow-cooked in an earthen pit over smoldering coals for several days. Next, the cooked agave is chopped with a machete and pounded into pulp using a hand-carved mallet; fermentation occurs in bull leather, twisted around a set of posts to cradle the agave fibers and water as they convert into alcohol; finally, the liquid is distilled twice in fragile clay pot stills heated over an open flame.

Alvarado Álvarez primarily sells his mezcal within his community, and his label Ixcateco debuted in the U.S. market earlier this year. (He has also previously provided small exclusive batches to brands like Cinco Sentidos and Balancan for distribution under their own labels). His production yields about 1,200 liters annually, a mere fraction compared to larger brands. This intricate process requires constant attention, hard work, and an instinctual approach rather than advanced machinery — akin to the Slow Food movement in the world of spirits. Having crafted mezcal alongside his father since the age of 15, these techniques have become second nature for Alvarado Álvarez, resulting in mezcal that embodies his family’s unique style — deeply savory, with notes of bitter cacao and sweet, damp clay.

Many mezcaleros follow a similar path in creating agave spirits across Mexico, drawing on traditional knowledge to produce unique variations that express the flavor profiles of local agave types, the materials used in fermentation and distillation, and the personal touches of the distillers. This is why mezcal from the village of Ejutla tastes distinct from that made in San Cristóbal Lachirioag to the northeast or Sola de Vega to the southwest. Similarly, mezcal from Oaxaca has a different character than that produced in Puebla. This diversity fuels the mezcal category's endless potential for unique and captivating discoveries.

However, under Mexican law, many producers cannot legally label their spirits as “mezcal.” To be classified as mezcal, distilleries must adhere to specific criteria set by the Mexican government in 1994 as part of the official denominación de origen (DO) for the spirit, a protected geographical status dictating virtually every aspect of production. Liquids that fail to meet these standards are often shipped to the United States labeled as “spirits distilled from agave” or “destilados de agave.”

This scenario is increasingly common. A growing number of producers are opting for the label “spirits distilled from agave,” exporting liquor to the U.S. that is mezcal in essence but not in name. Notable brands, including NETA, Cinco Sentidos, Mezcalosfera, Melate, Mezonte, Rezpiral, and Pal’alma, have never obtained certification for their mezcal. In Santa Catarina Minas, leaders in the industry such as Real Minero and Lalocura have recently chosen to forgo the certification process entirely. Others, like Mezcal Vago, plan to navigate this space by releasing most batches as mezcal while occasionally including uncertified versions.

The terms that appear on a bottle label may seem trivial to the casual drinker — after all, it's all distilled agave — but for those with a deep-rooted connection to this spirit, the implications are far more profound and complex than mere labels. The choice to pursue certification is often clouded by the intricate blend of tradition, economics, and politics. This has led prominent mezcaleros and brands to challenge the DO, prompting industry stakeholders to question: who has the authority to dictate what mezcal producers should call their spirits when their methods are tightly woven into their cultural legacy?

Today, this beverage is widely recognized as mezcal, but the terminology used to refer to this spirit in Mexico has evolved over the years. Scholars like Ana G. Valenzuela-Zapata and Gary Paul Nabhan have noted that the contemporary term mezcal is derived from the Aztec word for chewed agave fibers: “mexcalli,” which combines “metl” (agave) and “ixcalli” (oven-cooked). By the mid-17th century, these agave spirits were commonly referred to as vinos de mezcal, crafted by families across Mexico for communal events such as funerals, births, and weddings. The term “mezcal wine” aptly describes these agave spirits, which, much like varieties of grapes, showcase distinct flavors based on the local climate, terroir, agave species, and traditional practices.

This vibrant world of vinos de mezcal persisted until the 20th century when legal frameworks began to emerge to differentiate regional styles. The first spirit to gain formal recognition in Mexico was vinos de mezcal de tequila, which received a denomination of origin in 1974, becoming the first outside Europe to do so. As tequila evolved into a globally recognized category, it brought substantial economic benefits to Mexico, prompting the government to establish similar standards for mezcal two decades later.

By 1997, a regulatory body known as El Consejo Mexicano Regulador de la Calidad del Mezcal, A.C. (COMERCAM, formerly the Consejo Regulador del Mezcal) was established to oversee, interpret, and enforce the regulations defined as the Norma Oficial Mexicana, or NOM. Under these guidelines, mezcal must be crafted from 100 percent agave in one of ten designated states (including Oaxaca, Durango, and Guerrero). It is classified into one of three categories based on production methods: ancestral, artisanal, or mezcal (typically indicating industrial processes). The spirit must also adhere to chemical standards set by the Mexican government, including an alcohol by volume (ABV) between 35 percent and 55 percent and methanol levels ranging from 30 to 300 parts per million (ppm), among other scientific parameters.

The primary aim of this standardization was to elevate mezcal’s somewhat dubious reputation (a legacy of Prohibition) to ensure it is recognized globally as a respectable spirit unique to Mexico. Similar to prosciutto di Parma or cognac, with consistent production standards, mezcal would regain its status as a reliable quality spirit on the world stage. Additionally, the regulations would guarantee that the name mezcal remains synonymous with Mexico, preventing other countries like Venezuela or Australia, where agave is also grown and distilled, from using the name. As Alberto Esteban Marina, former director general of the NOMs, puts it, “Anyone could produce a drink very similar to Champagne anywhere in the world, but they could not call it Champagne, even if it tasted identical. The same goes for mezcal.” The international treaty protecting DOs seeks to preserve and highlight the unique characteristics of products, cultures, processes, and traditions while ensuring these qualities are guaranteed for consumers.

The NOM also establishes a foundation for traceability and transparency in the mezcal production process, a crucial aspect given that mezcal's poor reputation in the ’90s was partly due to dubious producers selling inferior products throughout Oaxaca. “Today, the most significant aspect of certification is having oversight to ensure that the product being sold is genuine,” explains Oaxacan-born chemist Karina Abad Rojas, currently head of production and master distiller at Los Danzantes (known as Las Nahuales in the U.S. due to trademark issues), who also collaborates with the brand Alipus, both of which export certified mezcal. “There are many honest producers out there, but the market also contains those who misrepresent their products, claiming no chemicals or sugars are added. However, a proper lab analysis would reveal discrepancies between their claims and the actual content of the liquid.”

Before the establishment of the DO, being a mezcalero — producing small batches mainly for local markets — was not a financially viable career. This situation led many producers to seek additional income through jobs in farming or construction, or even to emigrate in search of better economic prospects. For Abad Rojas, who was among the first certifying agents for the CRM in the early 2000s, one of the key advantages of certification is economic. 'I wanted producers to get certified because it would open up more avenues for them to sell their mezcal in the commercial market. They could reach larger cities like Mexico City and Guadalajara, and even have opportunities for export,' she explains.

Lupita Leyva, a former member of the CRM (now COMERCAM) and currently working with El Clúster Mezcal de Oaxaca, underscores that certification also helps retain jobs and economic opportunities within Mexico. 'Often, agave distillates are purchased from small producers and shipped out of the country, sometimes even without being bottled here. They simply pay for the liquid and take jobs away from local communities. They’re bypassing our laws,' she states. 'You can’t just go to Champagne, buy bulk Champagne, and bottle it in Mexico for a reason. At the CRM, our mission was to protect those jobs.'

In the initial decades following the DO’s establishment, numerous brands were eager to comply with the certification regulations, which laid the groundwork for a system robust enough to attract expats back to Mexico to revive their family mezcal enterprises. By the numbers, Mexico produced 1 million liters of mezcal in 2011 — a figure that soared to nearly 8 million liters by 2020, with over half of that volume destined for the international market. While commercial production has yet to match tequila's staggering impact (in 2021, tequila production exceeded 500 million liters), the mezcal category is well on its way to recognition, largely thanks to the creation of the denomination of origin.

In the village of Santa Catarina Minas, the traditional mezcal culture prominently features distillation in clay pot stills known as olla de barro. These handcrafted stills, often assembled with mud and clay, are fragile and require frequent replacement. The mezcal produced often takes on a delightful mineral character from its contact with the clay. This practice has been passed down through generations at many palenques in the region, including Real Minero, where Graciela Angeles Carreño and her family have been crafting mezcal since the 1800s and began producing certified mezcal under the Real Minero label in 2004.

'We chose to pursue certification early on because we wanted to avoid the fate of our grandparents, who had to sell mezcal covertly due to its illegal status in Mexico. By adhering to the regulations, we could sell what our family produced legally,' she shares.

However, in recent years, a series of troubling interactions with COMERCAM left Angeles Carreño feeling as if their brand was being unfairly targeted, leading her to reject certification. The tipping point occurred in May 2018 over a dispute regarding the use of local names for agave varieties. Different regions in Mexico have distinct local names, so when COMERCAM insisted that the plant they had always referred to as Cuishe should be labeled Mexicano and that the name Coyota could no longer be used — despite prior approval — Angeles Carreño felt the organization had overstepped its boundaries: 'The only thing clear to us now is that the denomination of origin has taken the word mezcal from the people who make it. We can’t use the term, and we can’t freely express our views.'

“Real Minero's departure from the DO signals a significant change,” states educator and Experience Agave founder Clayton Szczech. “The CRM, now COMERCAM, was preventing them from using the traditional names of their agave plants on their labels, creating a situation where a regulatory body tells the cultural guardians they are mistaken about their own heritage.” He continues, “These authorities are becoming gatekeepers to a standardized version of mezcal, rather than facilitating the unique qualities of these exceptional products.”

The distinction between mezcal that qualifies for certification and one that does not can often hinge on slight variations in proof or minute levels of methanol or acidity. These seemingly minor factors compel mezcaleros to alter their traditional practices in favor of a more uniform product. For instance, the mezcal produced by Amando Alvarado Álvarez in Ixcatlán occasionally exceeds the methanol limit of 300 ppm. “To meet that standard, we would have to adjust our cuts at a higher proof and dilute with water,” he explains. “For those of us dedicated to making mezcal in Ixcatlán, adding water is a betrayal of our tradition, which is why I refuse to compromise on our methods.”

Practically speaking, the controversy surrounding certification often boils down to financial concerns: Many rural producers employing labor-intensive, traditional methods simply cannot afford the costs, which in the past have ranged from $3,000 to $10,000. Current expenses vary based on the state of production and the certifying body involved, but brand owners typically shoulder these costs — most mezcal brands sold in the U.S. today are not owned by mezcaleros — incorporating these expenses into the final retail price. When funds are scarce, the burden falls on the mezcaleros, many of whom lack basic facilities like paved floors or electricity, let alone the means to certify their spirits.

Producers and brand owners, whether certified or not, generally agree that the strict guidelines of the DO need a revision to better safeguard the essence of mezcal. Max Rosenstock from NETA, an uncertified brand now available in the U.S., provides a broader perspective. 'Mexico is one of the most biodiverse countries in the world, with Oaxaca at its heart. The notion that a single denomination could encompass all this is ludicrous. In Italy, there are over 300 DOs for different wine varieties; why do we have only one for mezcal in Mexico? It neither protects nor regulates effectively,' he asserts.

The method of certification is also under scrutiny. With COMERCAM serving as the primary body responsible for interpreting and enforcing the NOM for years, some of its actions have raised concerns and fostered resentment among producers. In late 2020, Mexico's secretary of economy fined the organization for deceptive and abusive practices. Last spring, allegations of misconduct surfaced against then-president Hipócrates Nolasco Cancino, including accusations of intimidation and demands for sexual favors in exchange for certification. This turmoil eventually led to a split of COMERCAM into several new entities, which are now figuring out their path forward.

For the casual enthusiast, certification might seem trivial since it doesn’t directly impact the quality of the mezcal. 'There are outstanding products on both sides,' notes spirits importer Nicholas Palazzi, who collaborates with brands like Cinco Sentidos, NETA, and Ixcateco, which is debuting in the States this year. 'Ultimately, it comes down to what the producer wants to create. If the producer can meet the certification requirements for mezcal or cognac without changing their traditional methods developed over generations, then great! Let's certify it. However, I don’t see the point in altering age-old practices just to meet regulatory standards.'

When discussing with brand owners, distributors, and importers, a tendency arises to weigh one camp against another. Pro-certification advocates proclaim that certified agave spirits are inherently more reliable than their uncertified counterparts. In contrast, anti-certification supporters argue that the distillates de agave approach better honors the essence of mezcal. Regardless of one’s stance, it will be intriguing to observe how the divide between these perspectives develops, especially as the industry adapts to a landscape governed by multiple regulatory bodies rather than a single authority.

Ultimately, for mezcaleros and established producers like Graciela Angeles Carreño, the crux of the issue is about autonomy—specifically, who is permitted to use the name mezcal and who should be allowed to. 'Agave distillates are made across the country, so no one should need permission to use the term mezcal,' she insists. 'From our viewpoint, this situation strips producers of their cultural heritage, which is our rightful property.'

She mentions that many have questioned her choice to cease certifying Real Minero as mezcal, yet she feels no remorse. 'Regardless of whether we call it mezcal, our production process and traditions remain unchanged from those of our grandparents. We assure you that we maintain thorough records and traceability in our methods, while honoring our heritage,' she explains. 'Mezcal is a heritage shared by all Mexicans, and as long as there are producers committed to preserving our distillate and defending its origins, the world will continue to enjoy exceptional agave spirits.'

Emma Janzen is a journalist, photographer, and a James Beard Award-nominated author with an unquenchable passion for drinks that embody a unique sense of place.Juan de Dios Garza Vela is a photographer focused on food and travel. When not behind the camera, he enjoys creating illustrations and murals. Currently based in Guadalajara, he cannot imagine life without tacos.