Steel Machetes

In Quintana Roo and the Yucatan peninsula in Mexico huts are commonly known as palapas and there are even hotels that advertise beach palapas to Gringos and Germans. Go figure. Some turistas prefer going native. So do many of the natives.

The whole concept of the palapa developed because the Maya of old would farm one area of the jungle for several years and then move to another area. Everything was renewable. The trees they cut for palapas would over a 20-30 year period grow back and the Maya would not go back into an area for that period of time so the jungle could actually rejuvenate.

It all worked well since a palapa could be built in a week or two. And jungle men like my friend Poot could build one using just one tool; his machete. But things changed. With population increases land was privatized or more commonly turned into ‘ejidos’ or communal farms. We live on one and so do many Maya.

In one of our huts there is no roof. Hurricane Dean took care of that. It wasn’t thatched but we are converting. We’ll have to go out to the ranch and cut some guano or palm fronds for the thatches; fortunately the wooden frame is intact so we don’t have to replace that. On the ranch we have an older palapa and amazingly nothing happened to it; one hundred mile per hour winds could not knock it down.

A hurricane will blow the roof off a well constructed house since the hurricane winds form a vacuum inside the house and the roof is literally lifted off. Not so with palapas. In a bad hurricane the roof will lift up until the outside and inside pressures equalize, something more modern style constructions cannot do. Because of its natural construction the palapa will bend but not break.

The palapa roof is also cooler than conventional roofs. What is strange is to see a modern hotel with a thatched roof; it’s not just the ‘look and feel’ for tourists. It’s cooler and air conditioning costs in Mexico can be very expensive. Obviously a palapa cannot be air conditioned because it has no insulation.

The downside to the thatched roof is critters like rats and scorpions love to make their nests in the thatches. Last night we heard a rat and sure enough in the morning it had raided our food.

Another downside to a thatched roof is that it burns easily so smart palapa builders put their kitchen outside and away from the hut. Since most rural Maya still burn wood, the sparks can easily ignite a dry, thatched roof.

The palapa walls can be made of sticks or planks of wood. Our main palapa has walls made of caoba wood; a precious wood like teak or mahogany. It may be a hut but it’s got some very upscale walls. Many of the poorest Maya simply put up stick walls with gaps in between meaning that one can actually see inside the hut. Great for letting breeze in during the steamy summers as well as allowing hurricane winds to pass through. Not so great for nosey neighbors.

Snakes like palapas too. Our lot in the Maya village has a large venomous four- nosed snake and hopefully one day he doesn’t get tired of his limestone hole in our back yard and decide to join us in our palapa. Sometimes snakes do that when rain floods them out. Such are the risks of palapa life.

The roof and frame sit on top of posts dug in the ground. But these aren’t ordinary posts. We use zapote tree hearts for this. A zapote tree can fall down in the jungle and the heart of the tree not rot for 10 years. Sturdy and durable is an understatement; just don’t figure you can easily put a nail in it because it simply is too hard. Palapa doors and windows can be made of an assortment of wooden planks; some more modern Maya put screens up to keep out the bugs.

Today’s modern palapas have simple cement floors. In the old days the Maya would build a floor out of limestone rock and then crush more limestone and put it on top to form a smooth surface. After several months of walking on it the floor would become smooth and as hard as rock.

In our Maya village almost everyone has a palapa although the more successful farmers are now building their cinderblock and cement houses. Not me. Those cinderblock houses get too hot. How hot is hot? How about a hundred degrees Fahrenheit with one hundred per cent humidity. A veritable rainforest sauna; sweating like a pig in the pouring rain. Unrelenting.

The brutal sun, wind and pounding rain cause cement and plaster walls to crack even with steel rebar reinforcement. I prefer a genuine real palapa. True, when we build our new ranch palapa in the jungle we will use nails and wire and bolts to hold the roof down. During a hurricane nails and wire hold the palapa together better.

But for all the modern day improvements such as wire and nails the palapa design remains the same has it has for centuries. My neighbors wonder why we don’t build a cinderblock house and I can’t really explain it other than to say I feel more at home in my jungle palapa. Crazy Gringo.

When in Rome do as the Romans and when in the Zona Maya do as the Maya. Good advice that makes sense. Besides, no one can every accuse us of being arrogant or presumptuous as long as we live in a Maya palapa, even if the walls are made of some very chic caoba wood.

Originally published here.

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Jack Deal

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Alvin Starkman  M.A., LL.B.

 

 

Think of mezcal (also known as mescal) as you would a single malt scotch, or better yet when comparing red wines of different vintages from the regions of France.  Or perhaps grape varietals from the diversity of valleys and coastal areas in Australia.  Forget about the worm for the time being, and forever the reputation with the college crowd of mezcal?s better known sister, tequila.

 

INTRODUCTION

 

Mezcal is made from the agave plant, often referred to as maguey.  Its production, according to some sources, may actually pre-date the Spanish Conquest, although the product would have been very different from what we encounter today.  Many modern-day facilities use the same age-old technique, although some of the tools of the trade have been changed, for example from the use of clay pots for manufacture and storage, to copper serpentine for distillation, and oak and glass for aging and transporting.

 

It is estimated that there are about 5,000 production facilities in the State of Oaxaca (where most mezcal is produced), less than 200 of which are members of the regulated association.  Most are tiny mom and pop operations serving a local community and its hinterland, some produce the spirit for distribution in primarily the City of Oaxaca, and there are a handful catering to the export market.  However, in all three instances there is a broad range of quality in terms of smoothness, flavor nuances and smokiness.  In fact the well-entrenched tradition of Oaxacans discerning personal palate-worthiness of different mezcals, manifests not through sampling store-bought designer bottles with smart labels, but rather from acquiring multi-liter receptacles from towns and villages in different regions of the state.

 

Product diversity exists for three primary reasons.  Firstly, as is the case with grape varieties in wine production there is a range of agave suitable for mezcal production.  Secondly, we find micro-climates yielding plants with subtle differences based on for example soil composition and length and quality of growing season, again similar to what we find regarding vineyards.  Finally there is significant variation in the means of production as determined by the mezcalero, or brewmaster if you will.  Each decision is crucial in determining the quality of the finished product, beginning with choosing the precise time when the plant is ready for harvest. 

 

PRODUCTION

 

In Oaxaca there are well over 50 varieties of maguey, roughly 18 of which are used in the production of mezcal.  However, about 90% of mezcal is made with the espadín agave, perhaps 5% uses tobalá, and the remaining types, found predominantly in the wild, comprise the balance.  Espadín is similar to the blue agave traditionally used in the production of tequila.   However, since blue agave grows in different climates than does espadín, the geographical distinction alone is enough to create a differentiation in taste.  But the main difference between mezcal and tequila is that the latter is produced using stone ovens or stainless steel tanks for cooking, while the former in most instances still employs the centuries old method of baking the agave in an in-ground oven over firewood and rocks.   

 

The investment of time required to produce a bottle of mezcal begins with 8 years, being how long one must usually wait between transplanting a tiny agave plant produced from runner or cut from its tall stock, and harvest.  Towards the end of the growth period, the stock shoots up, signifying the initial stage of readiness.  The stock is cut down, and for several months thereafter nutrients gather in the base of the plant known as the piña because of its appearance once the leaves are removed.  It is this central core of the agave which is transported by truck or on the backs of donkeys to market (the factory), and not the spiny succulent leaves which in most cases are discarded once cut from the piña, the spherical form of which is only then revealed.  It takes approximately 7 tons of raw piña to produce 1,000 liters of mezcal, depending on the type of mezcal being produced.   

 

A pit dug into the earth and measuring about 8? deep by 12? in diameter is preheated for a couple of days with thick smoldering logs, on top of which are then placed river rocks.  After the rocks have become red-hot, a thin layer of discarded fibrous material from another stage of the process is often placed atop, serving to insulate the rocks from the piñas which are piled on top of the heated rocks, forming a mound, perhaps 4? – 5? above ground level.  Traditionally the small hill would then be covered with a woven palm leaf mat known as a petate, but now a sheet of synthetic product such as plastic or grain sack material is used, sometimes in conjunction with the petate.  Then all is covered with earth so as to ensure the contents of the mound remains airtight.  Finally and for good measure a few logs are placed on top of the heap of earth.

 

The agave bakes for a few days, absorbing the characteristics of the earth, any clay brick used to line the pit, charred wood and smoke.  (It?s important to keep in mind the particulars of each step during which distinct flavor and smokiness may be imparted.)   Carbohydrates or starches are converted into fermentable sugars.  With its now carmel-like sweetness, the piñas are ready to be removed, then cut into small pieces with a machete, and thereafter crushed by a horse or donkey dragging a multi-ton circular concrete wheel over a round, low-walled area in which the charred piña pieces have been placed.

 

The pulverized cooked agave together with any extracted juices is then pitched into large pine vats where it is left to ferment for between 5 and 15 days depending on the prevailing climactic conditions.  Only a bit of water is added to the wooden receptacles which are either covered with plastic or left exposed to the air.  No chemicals or other substances or agents, either man-made or natural, are added. 

 

The fermented by-product at about 6% alcohol content is then placed in a brick still, heated with firewood.  The vapor rises into copper piping which leads to a companion vat filled with water and the continuation of the copper piping, serpentine in shape entering the tank of water.  The water cools the vapor in the tubing.  A small spigot at the bottom allows a liquid, mezcal, to slowly drip out into a provisional receptacle.  It is normally distilled for a second time, often with the addition of further fermented agave, using a recipe determined by the master mezcalero, to bring the finished product to the desired alcohol content, usually about 40% alcohol by volume. Mezcal is now in its purest form, known as blanco, before aging or being infused with herbs, fruit or the worm.

 

THE GUSANO

 

The gusano worm is in fact not a worm, but rather a caterpillar, an infestation to which the agave plant is susceptible.  However, in the production and sale of mezcal it has served three primary functions over the years.  Firstly, prior to there being any labeling or regulation of mezcal, a gusanito was inserted into a bottle of mezcal as proof to the purchaser that the liquor had a sufficiently high alcohol content.  The worm?s preservation in the mezcal, without any decomposition, signified that the alcohol content ought to be acceptable to the purchaser.  Secondly, today the worm is a valuable marketing tool. Often the one to finish the bottle is expected to ingest the gusano remaining at the bottom.  Finally, and perhaps most importantly, it adds a distinct and appealing flavor to the mezcal as well as smoothness, particularly crucial if the mezcal is otherwise not particularly suave or has not been aged in wood. 

 

The gusano has been a staple in Oaxacan cookery for generations, often purchased live in the marketplace, or dried, sometimes with 100 strung up into a necklace.  Some of the finest prepared salsas are made with ground gusano.  And of course there is sal de gusano, a combination of salt, chili and worm, used not only in the ritual of imbibing, but also to bring out and add flavor to fruit, to rim glasses used to serve other alcoholic beverages, and more. 

 

TASTING NOTES

 

The three main types of traditional mezcal one encounters are blanco or joven (young), reposado and añejo.  The first represents mezcal which has come directly from the still without any aging whatsoever, except while in glass or plastic receptacles awaiting bottling or sale.  It can be quite sharp or strong, but is also encountered in a smooth state depending on the skill level of the mezcalero, percentage alcohol, number of distillations, and so on.

 

Reposado literally means lying down, resting, or reposing, so when one finds mezcal reposado it?s been aged, in theory in oak barrels anywhere from 2 to 18 months or so, but frequently simply allowed to sit for a period of time with fruit in it which imparts flavor and smoothness.  Añejo, by contrast, signifies mezcal which is mature or aged, having been kept for generally 2 or more years in French or American oak barrels sometimes previously used for wine or brandy, or perhaps charred inside to produce a distinct taste.    A good añejo which has been carefully distilled and aged has a fine, smoky essence and is extremely smooth.

 

One can encounter either joven or reposado, with gusano, but virtually never an añejo with the worm because the latter has already had a great deal of time and effort expended in producing a product of  fine quality.  Notwithstanding that industry controls are by and large lacking apart from controls over those producers which are members of the association, it?s rare that one finds a small operation which even purports to produce añejo. However they may have other varieties in addition to the foregoing three or four staples. 

 

In Spanish ?pechuga? means breast.  Within the context of mezcal manufacture, true mezcal pechuga has been made by hanging a raw chicken breast in the still during production, imparting in the spirit a subtle flavor nuance and a bit of body created by the minute percentage of fat which has been allowed to vaporize.  One should exercise caution in purchasing what is purported to be true mezcal pechuga, once again because of the matter of lack of industry control.  In some rural operations one sometimes encounters pechuga which is dark in color.  The mezcalero may state that indeed it has been made with chicken breast, the color having been derived from aging with fruit.  Whether chicken has actually been used in production is not certain unless you witness the process.  That is not to state that the mezcal should be avoided since we?ve sampled some excellent rural pechuga?.only to warn that with what the mezcal has been made might be debatable. 

 

The balance of mezcals one is apt to taste fall into two broad categories.  The first is a spirit similar to the above-noted selections, with no additives except a particular herb or fruit zest.  Regarding the latter, one well-known producer, Mezcal del Amigo, has a citrus mezcal.  Similar to the citrus mezcal is cedrón, a local herb producing a pleasant lime-like aroma.  Then comes the more herbaceous products such as poleo, often also used to make a tea to cure stomach ailments.  The sweet mezcals, referred to as cremas are made with a range of exotic fruits, but almost always contain a sweetening agent, most often honey, sugar or cane alcohol.  The percentage mezcal used in such production is frequently quite small, and in fact there is currently controversy in the industry regarding whether or not the word mezcal ought to be used in labeling the beverage.  Some cremas are made with cream or milk, while others are not, but can nevertheless be mixed with either, perhaps on the rocks, or in making desserts, for example poured over vanilla ice cream.  Those who reside in Oaxaca have the opportunity to purchase bulk blanco mezcal and experiment with their own private recipes such as peach-honey, raisin-apple, guava, rosemary, and innumerable others. 

 

Regardless of any preconceived notions you might have about mezcal, have a taste, whenever the opportunity arises, and of whatever is being offered, if only enough to discern differences and develop a palate for one or more types you prefer from the broad array of flavors, agings and degrees of smokiness.

Originally published here.

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Alvin Starkman

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Alvin Starkman  M.A., LL.B.

 

Every Sunday Gloria awakens at 3 am, and begins preparing tejate, a frothy, tasty corn and cacao based drink, which she will offer for sale in the Tlacolula market.  A couple of hours later her sister-in-law María and Maria’s daughter Luci follow suit, but in preparation for their own day of vending pre-Hispanic-style figures and masks, comals, and an assortment of other fired clay bowls, cups, plates and containers.  Sundays, the women laugh, is their day of rest, when they don’t have to worry about scrounging for firewood, tending fields, lugging raw material for kneading into clay — the lifeblood of their economic existence — and in the case of María, looking after preparing breakfast for Luci and her older brother and getting them off to school.

 

The family of four lives in a modest yet fair sized dirt-floor compound in San Marcos Tlapazola, a Zapotec village about an hour outside of Oaxaca.  Nearby Tlacolula is known by tourists and native Oaxacans alike for the pageantry of its Sunday marketplace, its bakeries’ wonderful chocolate-filled buns, the church, proximity to fields of agave and mezcal factories, and products offered for sale by the women of San Marcos.

 

Gloria, María and Luci are 40, 38 and 12 years old respectively.  While in the market, their traditional dress, consisting of brightly colored and embroidered taffeta dresses and head-dresses, easily sets them and others from nearby villages apart from the rest.  Luci confesses that she also likes wearing regular clothing. 

 

In her lifetime, only once has Gloria been to Oaxaca.  The mere thought of venturing into the big city intimidates her. 

 

Clumps of hard earth are soaked.  On a concrete floor in an almost barren dark room, María kneads the then softened mud with water and a bit of sand, while kneeling and working her magic, until a buttery smooth clay is ready to be fashioned into a vase.  With her hands raised to just about head level, she molds a cone, pounds out the inside to create a funnel, then places it on a small hard piece of plastic atop a flat stone, with a bit of sand as a buffer.  The sand enables her to spin the form into a sphere.  She uses rolls of clay to build up it up.  A piece of corn cob is used to make the outside surface even, and another piece of plastic to cast the inside.  A small round segment of hardened gourd assists in producing the desired, final exterior shape.  A strip of soft leather facilitates the creation of a smooth finish.  Then onto the next one. 

 

Gloria is sitting a few feet away, beginning to burnish a small bowl she has removed from under a cloth covering several others. She’s using one of two almost golf ball sized highly polished river stones given to her by her grandmother.  She has already coated the series of bowls with a mixture of a different, much redder clay, and water, so as to create a terra cotta colored paint tone.  Once hard and dry, all that Gloria and María have produced over the course of days, is ready for baking. 

 

Some alfareros in the town of Atzompa use above-ground brick and cement ovens.  Others in San Bartolo Coyotepec and Ocotlán use below-ground brick-lined pits.  Manuel Reyes in Yanhuitlán constructed his own twin kilns out of clay brick, lengths of re-enforced steel, and mud.  But the women of San Marcos, each and every time they want to bake their clay pieces, build a makeshift enclosure at ground level, made variously of discarded bed spring, pieces of rusted through wheel barrow, bent bicycle tire rim, old sections of otherwise unusable laminated metal, and broken pieces of pottery which have not survived a prior firing. 

 

A cousin sometimes comes by in a truck to sell Gloria and María a load of twigs, branches and rotted out logs, for anywhere between 400 and 1200 pesos, depending on the load size.  Sometimes he brings by dried agave leaves, stock, and pieces from the heart or piña which have for some reason not been harvested for mezcal production.  The women themselves often gather up similar pieces of potential fuel while in the course of walking the hills outside of their village, and tie them up to both sides of their mule before heading back home. 

 

A day of baking can usually proceed smoothly if there is no rain, and any earlier precipitation has not left the wood wet; if it’s not too windy; and of course if there is a sufficient supply of burnable product on hand, and not too much of the scrap metal has been rendered unusable through the beginning stages of decomposition / disintegration.

 

Typically, María is in charge of process, while Luci assists, and Gloria divides her time between doing other household chores such as cooking tortillas and being called upon when María tires or has been affected by the intense heat, or a stage in production is time-sensitive.

 

All the pottery to be baked is assembled outside, in close proximity to the area where the “oven” will be built:  a series of rustic clay pots — an order for a client who makes and sells piñatas; three comals which were not sufficiently fired on a previous occasion;  numeral clay figures of different sizes and forms, for the Tlacolula tourist trade; and an assortment of functional pots, bowls and plates, as well as a few small spoons and tiny colanders.

 

A circular base approximately two meters in diameter is created, using preferably bed spring placed atop a couple of staggered layers of brick, since such a foundation provides for aeration.  Broken pots, old metal receptacles, roofing tile, and whatever else is close at hand creates a confining perimeter.  Small twigs and pieces of agave heart are placed underneath.  María cuts agave leaves with a machete.  With the aid of an extremely heavy, meter-and-a-half long crow bar known as a barreta, Gloria pitches in by splitting log pieces and lengths of dried agave stock.  María and Luci build a flammable base atop the spring.  With gingerly proficiency, María both directs and assists in placement of the pieces.  From her years of experience she knows how to best achieve even firing and avoid breakage. 

 

More of each class of burnable, as well as dried tumbleweed, is carefully placed on top of the clay pieces.  Hot ash from making tortillas is shoveled into crevices to facilitate incineration, while a couple of matches set to a few special added twigs, a natural kindling, assures a quick light.  A fairly strong wind fuels an initially fledgling fire, and within seconds the blaze is raging and smoke is billowing.  More branches and died agave parts are tossed on, with the upmost care since multi-directional wind tunnels have been created.  Gloria must fully cover her head to ensure that spark does not ignite her hair.  Each takes a turn extricating herself from the swirling, seemingly out-of-control flames. Finally, sheets of rusted metal are strategically placed alongside, and atop, to control the entry of air being drawn to the inner portions of the enclosure. 

 

The morning’s work completed, flames are left to dissipate, while Gloria, María and Luci sit, have a drink of fresh fruit juice, and rest.  After about 45 minutes baking will have been completed.  The area will be left to cool, while Gloria and María return to their simple work room, add a bit of water to their drying clay, and begin kneading before once again beginning production of another diverse lot.  Later in the day the oven will be disassembled, pottery removed with hopefully a minimal amount of breakage, ash dusted off.   The women of San Marcos Tlapazola will then wrap and box their merchandise in preparation for their next trip to market.

 

Most Sundays María can be found sitting on the ground with Luci, with an array of rustic clay figures and masks, as well as a selection of traditional Zapotec cooking and serving utensils displayed in front of them, on one side of an outside aisle in the Tlacolula marketplace.  Gloria will be directly across from them, pouring cups of tejate to thirsty passersby. 

Originally published here.

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Alvin Starkman

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