Del Maguey Ibérico Mezcal

Bottled in 2014 As the weather turns cold and unpleasant, my spouse and I typically begin arranging our annual trip to Mexico. This year, however, it's not happening due to COVID. The closest we can get is setting the thermostat to 85 degrees, playing Tito Puente loudly on Amazon music, and enjoying some delicious mezcal – my preferred alternative to whisky. Del Maguey Iberico is the second mezcal bottle I've opened. At over $200, it was an extravagant choice. Since then, I've opened about 7 or 8 more bottles (different ones, naturally), and none are as expensive or nearly as good. The concept behind this spirit is mind-boggling: it begins like a standard double-distilled 100% espadin mezcal; then, it's combined with a separate distillate made from various wild fruits, almonds, and white rice; finally, the mixture, now considered a flavored mezcal, is distilled a third time in a still with a piece of iberico ham suspended within. The resulting mezcal is one of the most astonishingly delicious and intricate beverages I have ever tasted. It's a tropical, fruity explosion that is somehow enhanced by acetone. You'll find pineapple, blueberries, plantains, and yes, the sweet, nutty, ham-like essence of iberico! The balance and complexity on the palate are remarkable: a mellow, sweet savoriness is accompanied by a full range of herbs and spices, tartness reminiscent of apple vinaigrette, and bitterness from orange peels, culminating in a beautiful and exotic finish with dried salted plums and bitter melon. When I first sampled this mezcal, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Now, when I drink it, I simply close my eyes and allow them to roll back in pleasure. Whiskies that have evoked a similar response in me include WhistlePig The Boss Hog IV The Black Prince, Bruichladdich Black Art 4.1, and Springbank Local Barley 16 year old, providing an idea of the caliber of this mezcal for fellow whisky enthusiasts. I only wish that such imagination and creativity with truly prized ingredients could be applied to the world of whisky. Score: *** (I am not worthy) Bottle cost: $200-240 My perceived worth of a bottle: $500

The nose begins with a brief blend of fruit and floral notes, then shifts to the scent of chorizo sausage grilling over charcoal, alongside asparagus with olive oil, shiitake mushrooms, and fried yucca. This is followed by a fruit salad of mangoes, papaya, kiwi, and green grapes, with a subtle smokiness and a light ethanol burn. The taste has a medium yet airy mouthfeel, starting with a mild spice reminiscent of fresh grilled chorizo that fades into light notes of black olives, salted asparagus, fried yucca, and Portobello mushrooms. It then transitions to fruits like red grapefruit, salted mango, kiwi slices, and diced red apples, with a moderate smoke and medium ethanol burn. The finish is long, featuring dark chocolate, pineapple-glazed ham, eucalyptus, dried mango, kiwi, toasted marshmallow, and lightly charred olive bread, lingering for minutes. This is an exceptional and intricate mezcal that skillfully balances bold flavors of ham, grilled vegetables, fruits, and smoke. I was initially uncertain about the ham flavor, but it truly enhances the vegetable and fruit notes, compelling me to take another sip. When compared side-by-side with Arroqueno, the spicy ham notes of the Iberico are prominent, while the Arroqueno seems milder with more fruit on the nose. On the palate, the Iberico offers bolder flavors than the Arroqueno, which lacks the spice that some might dislike. I could enjoy either depending on my mood, but after multiple comparative tastings over several days, I find myself preferring the Iberico over the Arroqueno. If you're in the mood for fruit, I'd suggest the Arroqueno, but if you desire spicy meat, then opt for the Iberico. Regardless of your choice, both are legendary mezcals that I'd be delighted to sip any day.

We conducted our quarterly online tasting with some friends. We sampled four drinks... all impressive. 25yr Proof and Wood Light whiskey, Tears of Llorana tequila, Del Maguey Iberico, and an unbranded local mezcal from a distillery in Oaxaca. Some years back, I journeyed through Spain, visiting cities like Barcelona, Grenada, Ronda, and Madrid. A lasting memory from that trip is the Iberico ham. They raise these black-footed pigs on acorns, resulting in a delicate meat unlike any other ham. It's cured and then thinly sliced, revealing flavors reminiscent of the forest floor—earthy, with hazelnut notes. My initial taste of this drink transported me back to Barcelona and that thinly sliced Iberico ham. It's remarkable when a beverage evokes such a vivid memory of a wonderful experience. This spirit captures the essence of that Iberico ham—hazelnuts, subtle floral notes, an earthy character, and a touch of smokiness. My thanks to the person who shared this pour!

I sampled this before learning that actual ham was utilized in the production of this mezcal, and I was astonished that an agave spirit could capture the taste of ham. The aroma is distinctly of ham, accompanied by citrus, pear, smoke, and a vegetal note. The flavor resembles a slice of smoked ham brined in orange with a side of almond liqueur. It has a surprising sweetness, alongside savory and smoky elements. I must admit it's exceptionally well-crafted, but it's also not something I anticipate desiring frequently. I actually consumed this one-ounce sample, kindly provided by a friend, over two separate occasions, and half an ounce was about my limit each time. It's difficult to rate, as I can appreciate it and am especially thankful to have tried it, yet I wouldn't be disappointed if I never encountered it again.

Tasted at a restaurant. Very subtle on the nose, with faint fruit scents. However, the fruit flavor is intense on the palate, with caramelized pineapple prominent, followed by a spicy, smoky finish.

Extremely complex, with notes of cooked agave, wildflowers, violets, smoke, umami, bananas, caramelized pineapple, barbecue sauce, hoisin sauce, figs, dark chocolate, oranges, mint, grapefruit, and honey.