Sauza Tequila Blanco – It can’t be as bad as all that, can it?

I certainly wasn’t intending to buy tequila that day, but there I was, in the booze aisle at Morrison’s, and it was the first time I’d ever seen a supermarket tequila that wasn’t Jose Cuervo or Sierra. I’ve got twenty quid. I’m out of tequila. I’m on it.

Now, at £19.99 for 50cl this is poor value for a tequila that isn’t even 100% agave – especially when it’s from a supermarket. 70cl of el Jimador was only just over £20 from Carrington’s, and soon after this purchase of Sauza I happened to be looking online, and saw that Waitrose were selling the el Jimador Reposado (gold) for £20… it just gets worse.

I’m not even kidding because then, I started looking for reviews of Sauza (38% ABV) and it looks like it is probably the worst tequila ever. Here’s some direct quotations:

From tequila.net

“Skip this one. It's not even passable as a mixer.”

From Cracked.com

“Cheap, but really they should be paying you to drink it.” Frankly, the page this one is culled from is negative about all tequila, so perhaps take with a pinch of salt… and lime.

“Sauza is what the parents of other tequila brands use as a boogeyman to scare their children into being tasty. Sauza's a salty mix of hot garbage and all of your nightmares. If hate was a liquid that you could drink, you would use it as a chaser for Sauza.” Someone thinks they’re funny.

“Sauza Tequila doesn't go through the traditional distillation process that most brands go through. Instead, the bottlers wait for someone to get drunk on different Tequila, and then simply bottle that person's vomit and slap a Sauza label on it.”

It’s not all bad actually:

From Amazon

“The finest tequila I have ever found -- I have purchased only this one for decades.” So how do you know it’s the finest?

The general consensus though is that this is bad. But can anything actually be as bad as that? Let’s find out.

Firsly, let’s just be sensible ok? Nothing can be as bad as all that. This is the internet, and if you want people to read your work and enjoy it, you are maybe going to exaggerate a little. The point is that this is supposed to be particularly bad tequila. I suppose I’m saying that as a reminder to myself  - to maintain some perspective before I start over-analysing.

So what happened at fulfilment time?

I opened the bottle, poured a little and went to the next room to get my camera. A few seconds later when I returned, the smell of alcohol had escaped, and I found that pleasing. Off to the living room, bottle and all where I think we were watching a documentary about former chess champion Bobby Fischer.

I followed the procedure of sip one, neck a couple, sip one to get a full impression of what it’s like neat and what I found was that, while it’s not that bad, it certainly isn’t good and it doesn’t even taste like tequila. I can’t detect any agave in there and there is little to enjoy – perhaps a slight citrus element, but mostly aniseed. It’s grainy and watery, and it’s certainly not something that is likely to replace my Stoli Blue (which, at time of writing was sadly on its way out and is now long gone) as an early evening mood enhancer.

Since it’s not a sipper (or even a shooter), that meant I would have to try two more tests – with lime and tequila sunrise. This would be something Mrs Cake could get involved in.

With lime

Yes, I can find a use for Sauza if I squeeze a little lime juice into it, but that’s not what I buy tequila for. You can squeeze lime juice into pretty much any bad spirit and make it palatable. What I’m looking for is something I can sip on its own and marvel at how horrible but how great it is at the same time. Sauza just tastes… dirty.

True enough, I do need something I can just throw down my throat before I head out the door in the morning… just kidding, I mean before I go on a heavy night out sometimes, but even then, there are so many more and better alternatives than this one.

Tequila Sunrise

Sorry, I didn’t even get around to trying it with the old orange juice and grenadine. That’s not really the point though, is it? If it was the cheapest tequila, and you wanted to mix it, then fine, but this isn’t even the cheapest tequila. There’s better, there’s better for drinking straight and there’s cheaper for if you just want to mix it.

Is it as bad as all that?

No. Not quite. But it’s not that much better than all that. Some people don’t like tequila anyway, but I do and this almost makes me forget why. So there you have it. If you’ve got £20 to spend on tequila, you can get the 100% agave Jose Cuervo Tradicional (which I’ll be looking at another time) or el Jimador. If you don’t even have that much, maybe just don’t bother. Eh? There’s a good lad.

Now, I’m off to Florida this weekend (don’t rob my house while I’m gone, will you?) where I’ll be visiting NASA, swimming with manatees and then feigning extreme enthusiasm (hopefully while suitably “merry”) all the way around Disney World. More importantly, I’ll be using the experience to pick up some bourbon brands that I might not be able to get at home. It does mean that there won’t be a post next week, but don’t worry. I’ll be back the week after that, and at the moment it looks like I’ll be looking at the Grant’s Sherry Cask Edition. Join me then. See you later.

Poker Night part 2

Scant weeks after poker night at Dave’s, it was time for the annual end of season golf tournament. No drink involved there, but what did involve drink was the succeeding poker night. Only myself and Chris were present from the last time, but we were joined by Phil, John and Adam at John’s place in Lymm.

I’d been saving what remained of my Maker’s Mark for this occasion, and hadn’t touched it since that first poker night – half down, half to go.

That wasn’t the only hard liquor on the go. Besides each player’s choice of beer (Holsten Pils for me, as ever), I’d taken my new el Jimador tequila that I’d been waiting to open, as well as a bottle of Highland Park 12 Year Old for Chris – his groomsman gift. Adam brought along a fresh bottle of Jack Daniels and John supplied Jameson’s Select Reserve (which comes with a cork – we agreed that’s a good sign in a bottle of whisky) and some 3 year old Havana Club.

I also supplied the Cuban cigars, despite the fact it had been John who had just spent two weeks in Cuba.

We got down to the serious business of serious drinking and serious poker.

Everyone opted for Maker’s Mark to start off with, and professed a liking for it, but that proved to be the last I saw of it. I assume the others must have kept on drinking it, because the bottle was empty when I awoke the next day.

The first hand saw every one fold quickly, with the exception of John and myself. I had a pair of sixes, and opted to follow my usual strategy of staying in until it seems foolish. You don’t want to fold, and then find that you had a winning hand.

John upped the ante with a big raise. Figuring I’d at least got something, with two cards still to be revealed, it was worth matching.

When all cards were revealed, I still only had a pair of sixes, and John went all in. I hadn’t been expecting to be faced with this outcome so early. I’d already bet so much that folding now would reduce my chances of competing in the rest of the game significantly. On the other hand, I had to gamble everything if I wanted to stay in.

I felt a pang of anger at John’s action, but quickly suppressed it, and figured at least there were two more games to come after this, so being out of this one was no big deal. I also recalled seeing John do this before, one night during the golf holiday in Spain – betting big, to cover up the fact he actually had nothing. Chris and I had let him get away with it that time. I decided to play, and see what happened.

“I’m in.”

We showed our cards. John had nothing. He’d gambled on having an ace and a queen, and I won with a pair of sixes. He was out for the rest of the game, and in one fell swoop I had all his chips and a few more.

I also won the second hand with a pair of sixes, but after that it wasn’t plain sailing. I betted cautiously and lost a few before one hand where Chris and Adam had folded, leaving Phil and myself.

Feeling I had something that was good enough to win, I tried a big raise, and that was enough to convince Phil to fold. I wondered whether I shouldn’t have increased the betting slowly to take maximum advantage, and get Phil to bet more, but it turned out that Phil would have won the hand if he’d stayed in, so I’d inadvertently made the right choice.

Eventually every remaining player was dispatched, and I emerged victorious for the first time ever. My £15 winnings was eaten up straight away by having to contribute to the pizza order. Still; free pizza!

I moved on to trying each of the other liquors that were on offer. It felt a bit cheeky having a little of Chris’ Highland Park, since it was my gift to him, but no one else seemed to have reservations. It sure is a classy malt.

I can’t say I was impressed with the Jameson’s Select Reserve (£36 at The Whisky Exchange)  but I did enjoy the Havana Club. As for the Jack Daniels, it looks like my tasting skills are developing after all – this was the first time I’d ever tried it without ice, and I got a big hit of banana in there. Some reviewers go for ‘banana milkshake’, and it is almost like a soft drink, but I didn’t feel the need to be that specific. I like JD, so why does it taste of something I don’t like?

Finally, the piece de resistance… I’d been waiting for this night to crack open the 100% agave el Jimador tequila. Adam was actually the only one interested enough to give it a try, but we both liked it. It sure tastes different to your bog standard Jose Cuervo. It’s less sweet, with (for lack of better tasting skills) a darker tone to the flavour. Adam said it had a smooth taste, but I think that’s something people say when they don’t really know what they’re talking about… like, it’s got a kick to it and that stuff gets you hammered!

Well, I’m sure it wasn’t related to the booze, but I lost the next two games of poker. I was fine with that nevertheless, since I had won a game for the first time ever. I’m getting into this poker lark now, and I think I’ll try to attend one of these nights as often as possible. I’ve actually been practicing a bit online (free though, not on the actual gambling sites), and I’ve developed a couple of new strategies that I can’t wait to try out on real people. Poker can be the new golf for the winter months. It sure is a good excuse to break out the fancy booze.

What can I do with this bottle of... Tequila!

No Paul, I haven’t forgotten about the challenge you set me a few weeks ago, I just had other things I was excited about, and wanted to write about them first - and I was exploring that cask strength Caol Ila. Thanks for the request though.

For those readers who don’t remember, Paul has come into possession of a big bottle of tequila, and wondered if there are any simple drinks that he could use it for. He likes the Tequila Sunrise and Margarita, but feels they are just a bit too much trouble sometimes. I know what he means. Tequila Sunrise isn’t that difficult, but sometimes you just don’t want to get the cocktail shaker and the measuring cup out. You just want to stick some booze and a mixer over ice, and sit there enjoying it.

The thing about tequila is that it doesn’t come with a standard companion – you know, with the other strong liquors you have something that goes with it, almost to the extent that it’s a drink in its own right. You have rum and coke, gin and tonic, vodka and orange, even whisky and coke. But what do you have for tequila? Everyone seems to think you have to go through that whole rigmarole of biting a lemon wedge and licking salt, but why can’t we just enjoy tequila in a simple way, instead of having to act like you’re at a student party?

Well, we can, and there is one combination that comes to mind straight away that will do the job; tequila and lime. I’m a big fan of lime, and just adding the juice of half a lime (or 1 measure of lime juice) to a glass of tequila should produce the desired effect. Paul was unlikely to be satisfied with that alone though, so a little experimentation was called for. Until my Jose Cuervo Gold ran out - or longer if my financial situation improved, and there was sufficient spare funds to buy another bottle of tequila (along with all my other booze requirements) - I would be adding every soft drink I could find to a glass of tequila, and trying to determine if they were natural partners. Ay, ay, ay!

I did start by having a look in my various cocktail books to see if there was any singular ingredient that marries with tequila on a frequent basis, but that wasn’t leading me anywhere fast, and I decided it was time for some visceral experience. The only soft drink we had at home was a carton of pineapple juice that I’d had for a couple of months. I hadn’t opened it yet, but it was good until some time next year, so we may as well start there…

Tequila and pineapple juice – No! It doesn’t work. It’s just confusing, like if you brush your teeth and then immediately drink a glass of orange juice.

Tequila and lemon juice – a decent combination, but you don’t want to overdo the lemon juice. I did (adding a whole measure, to two measures of tequila), but I was able to rescue it by adding half a teaspoon of sugar syrup. Since lemon juice is such a powerful flavour, you’re not going to get a very big drink, but it’s a good fall back if you need it.

Tequila and cranberry juice – strong flavours battling it out here. It doesn’t taste bad, it’s just confusing. The taste of the tequila just about comes out on top, and overall it suggests that tequila doesn’t tend to mix too well – which is probably why it doesn’t have a natural partner.

Tequila and lemonade – I used the bottled, fizzy kind here and there isn’t really anything to report. The search continues.

Tequila and orange – it should really have been obvious that this one would work. It’s most of a Tequila Sunrise. The only thing missing is the grenadine, and in the Tequila Sunrise, that just sits at the bottom, so you’re drinking a lot of tequila and orange juice along the way. I’m going to stick out my neck a bit here, and say this is actually quite a complex (but complementary) flavour combination. Also, I don’t know if I’m just being daft, but there were elements of the taste that reminded me of a nice single malt.

Tequila and apple – it’s not that this tastes bad, it just doesn’t work. There’s something odd about it.

Tequila and tonic – not as successful as the vodka and tonic or gin and tonic, but if you did ever find yourself in an unlikely situation where all you had was a bottle of tequila and a bottle of Indian Tonic Water (like maybe if you’re stranded in deep space, and you’ve already drunk all the Pimms), you can rest easy knowing that you can mix these together. (I don’t even know what Pimms is, but I’m sure there will be a post on it sooner or later.)

Tequila and coke – not complementary of each other, I’m afraid.

-

There you go, Paul. Hopefully you can find something in amongst all that lot. I could go on, but there are probably more types of juice and soft drink than there are spirits, so I’d have to start a soft drink blog if I was going to try them all. I’m not going to do that – cheaper though it would be, but I am going to leave it open to you lot. Let us know if there is anything you like to mix your tequila with. Keep it simple though.

If you’re not happy to stick with tequila and orange or tequila and lime, I do have some suggestions for other things you can do with that bottle.

1. Give the bottle to me.
2. Take it out with you in a hip flask.
3. Use it just for taking big swigs to warm up before going out in the evening.
4. Use it for a drinking game – like alcoholic chess. 
5. Just hang on to it for when you can be bothered to make a Tequila Sunrise or Margarita. People say that spirits will eventually go stale in the bottle (once it’s been opened and the spirit therefore exposed to air), but I’ve never noticed any evidence of that. I had one bottle of brandy for about four years, and I never noticed any discernible difference in flavour.
6. Give the bottle to me – it’s the least you can do after I used all of my bottle trying combinations that didn’t work. Actually I didn’t use all of it, and I enjoyed the research, so thanks for that.

If you have any other things you’d like me to try before you waste your own liquor on it, or even if you just have any questions you think I might be able to help with, feel free to let me know.

Drinks With Convicted Killers

Welcome to part one of a new feature in which I’ll be trying drinks combinations that have been suggested by convicted killers. If you are a convicted killer and have any drinks you’d like me to do a feature on, get in touch via the comments. I’ll be glad to give it a go. If you’re not a convicted killer (or in fact any kind of killer) and you have some suggestions, don’t become one; I’ll be glad to feature your recommendations, too.

This first feature comes as a result of watching Werner Herzog’s documentary series Death Row which has been showing on Channel 4 recently. Episode one featured Hank Skinner who is currently on Death Row in Livingstone, Texas, following his conviction for the murder of his girlfriend and her two sons.

During one of the interviews, Skinner said one of the things he misses is eating avocado with tequila, lime and salt and pepper. ‘There’s no taste in the world like it,’ he said. I’m paraphrasing there. I don’t remember the exact words, but it was definitely something like that.

Well, I’ve got a bottle of tequila. I’ve got limes and salt and pepper, and stone me if avocados aren’t 59p at Aldi this week (is that cheap for an avocado? I don’t know). An experiment is planned.

I don’t actually have any experience with avocados. It wasn’t a fruit that made it into my parents’ house in Rotherham, but you know; I’ve eaten Mexican food. Brenda told me the avocado we bought was far too firm, so I had to leave it for a couple of weeks while it softened up. Apparently the idea is that you scoop the flesh out. I may still have started a little too early, since I wasn’t able to scoop much flesh out. It didn’t look like there was that much in there, to be honest, but if I’d waited longer it might have given up more goodness. Below is a picture of the building blocks of my experiment.

Check out the size of that stone!

I don’t know if Skinner’s suggestion has a standard method to follow – Herzog chose not to pursue that particular line of questioning - so I had to make up my own. I scooped as much flesh as I could from the avocado into a bowl and liberally scattered salt and pepper over it. I wasn’t sure what to do with the limes, but ended up squeezing them into the glass of tequila. That’s Jose Cuervo Gold obviously. I’m not sure it makes much difference, but my Silver is almost gone, and I’m saving that for if Brenda fancies a Tequila Sunrise one of these days.

Results! As I said, not much flesh, but the texture and mild flavour of the avocado was nicely seasoned by the salt and pepper, and provided a pleasing contrast with the tequila and lime. It’s good that there’s a snack that makes your mouth alco-numb.

Perhaps this wasn’t what Herzog intended anyone to get from his ruminations on the death penalty, but it’s nice to know there is something pleasant we can learn from people living at the extremes of human existence. 

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So it's been a relatively short post today. I am prone to rambling on for two and a half thousand words from time to time, as it's easy to forget that people don't really actually read anything anymore; they just do that 'F' thing, don't they? Where they read the top line, skim down a few paragraphs, read another line, skim down a bit... I know I do. So I thought I'd keep it short today.

Another weekend is upon us, so go forth and try some booze-related things. I don't have any big plans this weekend. I think I'll just get to know one of my whiskies better and play on the Xbox a bit. Whatever you're doing, have a good one. I'll see you next week with... something or other.

Booze Stories part 1: Peach Schnapps, Tequila and me.

Who likes tequila? Who doesn’t like tequila? It will come as no surprise to people who know me that I do like it. Have you ever heard though, someone say, “I used to like tequila/gin/vodka until one day I drank too much and was sick. Now the smell of it makes me feel ill”? I think that’s a common story. With me though, it’s not hard liquor like tequila, gin or vodka; it’s Peach schnapps. 

 Back when I was 18, and living in Newcastle University’s Henderson Hall, my friends and I embarked on a period of drinking tequila – we put our usual 8 cans of Viborg on hold for a few weeks. Each Friday night, before heading out to the Student’s Union, we’d sit in someone’s room, one bottle of Jose Cuervo between two (I think they were 70cl in those days. Now they’re only 50cl), drinking until it was gone. I wouldn’t notice how drunk I was until I had to return to my room to fetch my coat, barrelling down 5 flights of stairs, up 4, then those 4 down again and the other 5 back up, bouncing off walls and giggling all the way. Such fun.

The booze porn at the top of the page there represents what the bottle looked like back then. It doesn’t look like that now.

I think we tried tequila slammers, then we tried necking a shot and biting a slice of lemon, but pretty soon I switched to drinking it straight. I’ve always had sensitive teeth, and after biting those lemons it was three days before I could eat anything of note. Not that I ate a lot in those days. If you still aren’t keen on straight tequila, believe me, you do start to like the taste after a while. As an added bonus, drinking it straight made people think I was hardcore.

Anyway, this continued for a while until one week our group won a bottle of Archers Peach Schnapps [insert a photo] at the pub quiz. We elected to save it until Friday night, and add it to our Friday night drinking routine.

Now, I wasn’t much of a drinker before I went to university, but clearly by the time we’d started drinking tequila I’d done enough training to be able to handle half a bottle in an hour or so. Clearly though, that was my limit, since my seventh of a bottle of peach schnapps was enough to tip me over the edge. I didn’t make it out that night. And instead of marvelling at how the effects of tequila didn’t seem to take effect until I stood up to go out… I couldn’t stand up (or go out), and spent about an hour sat in a doorway, watching the world spin round and round. 

Eventually a couple of people helped me to my room and went out without me. I was sober by 1 o’ clock that morning, wide awake and bored. I think the next morning I was supposed to go and get a tattoo, but unlike me, my friend Jon had made it out to the Student's Union, and was still hungover, so we didn't go, and I never did get round to getting that tattoo. 

The essence of nausea and peach schnapps lingered for quite a while, and left a psychological imprint that I’ve never quite shaken off. So I’ve never been able to touch it since. No one seems to like that stuff, mind.

How about you though? Do you like Peach Schnapps? What’s your Excess Induced Alcohol Aversion, and is there a story behind it?

That’s all from me for now. I should be back on Friday with the usual pre-weekend post, and there might even be another article. Until then though, enjoy yer booze and see you later.