You expect a little tradition.  After all, the ‘crow’ (‘cuervo’s’ direct translation to English) has been around since the mid-1700’s.  Check a history book if you want to; it’s the oldest business in the Western Hemisphere.

Add the savvy of ten generations of Cuervo descendants (Juan Domingo Beckman is the latest helmsman), and a quaint tour which features the classic methods of tequila production, while keeping the slick, stainless modernity towards the rear, and you’ve seen Jose Cuervo’s view of the future as clearly as you’ve seen, within a nutshell, an image of tequila’s bizarre and fascinating past.  

 The Rojena is the focus point of Cuervo’s tour, for good reason; it’s a breathtaking, picturesque hacienda, centuries old, which backs into the ‘photo-op’ versions of tequila production: the ancient steaming ovens, the catacombs filled with original bottlings, dating back to 1753, the five-thousand litre alambiques (The Dukes of Hazzard would call ‘em ‘stills’).  But, at our insistence, we’d begun our Cuervo experience at the beginning…out in the agave field.

Agave is a hearty (obviously) lily; it grows without irrigation, in conditions which would depress a scorpion; savage sunlight, zero rain, chilly nights.  You get the impression that if anything else could grow around here, it would.  The clever Indians, making do, learned to ferment the sap of the agave, and invented the still-popular ‘peasant beer’ called pulque.  Pulque was a bit rough on the Spanish palate, so the conquistadors employed a little ingenuity of their own, running the raw, lightly alcoholic sap through the same process used to make brandy from grape wine: distilling.  The resulting liquor, dubbed tequila (for the nearby town of the same name) has firmly established itself in the conscience of gastronomers, as well as the party-hearty citizens of Margaritaville.

With his crew of forty, Ismael Gama, Cuervo’s top ‘Jimador’, or field foreman, sets to work on an agave plant, one of the three thousand he’s capable of pruning each day… by himself.  Such consummate skill is not an overnight phenomenon.  Gama’s the fourth generation in his family to hold the title of Jimador.  It’s a full agricultural job, and he kicks at the chocolate brown soil which allows Cuervo’s agaves to reach tremendous proportions, both in size and quality: volcanic ash has been sifting down onto these fields for thousands of years.Gama points to the sky; at first, we think he’s indicating the perfect temperature, but in fact, he’s indicating Cuervo’s most high-tech contribution to tequila production yet: a pair of orbiting satellites which are keeping tabs on growth patterns.  As we watch.  Since an individual agave requires between eight and ten years to reach maturity, and must be harvested at precisely the right moment, such incredible surveillance has, in some ways, revolutionized the industry.

From the fields to the cooking ovens, Cuervo’s agaves make a direct trip; quality begins to fade quickly.  By law, forty-nine percent of the fruit used is grown by private farmers, but the sugar content (sweeter the better) is carefully monitored.  The steaming process, which can go on for days, converts the heavy starches to sugars.  The resulting mash tastes a little like candied yams… you can find it in the nearby markets, where locals munch it like candy.  It’s shredded, washed, pressed, and fermented; following which, the massive alambiques run it through two distillations, producing a crystal clear liquor which is ready for aging.  That’s the step that really distinguishes the fine tequilas from the run-of-the-mill. 

We’re allowed a tour of the family’s private cellar, where some of the best tequila ever made is resting quietly, behind lock and key; handmade bottles wrapped in agave fibre.  Many have been there for centuries.

 In terms both of quality and mainstream ‘connoisseur’ acceptance, tequila’s probably made greater progress over the past decade than it has since it’s inception, when the plaster on Rojena’s walls was still damp.  Jose Cuervo takes pride in its unique position during this ‘coming of age’.  As we all know, tequila spent a rough few years as the brunt of  bad jokes and bad hangover songs... all that’s changing fast.  What began as the choice of conquistadors has regained status as Mexico’s national drink, Jalisco’s most unique contribution to the spirit world.