One Final Spirits Story About an Elusive Variety of Mezcal

PHOTO BY MARK C. ANDERSON

RAICILLA

The woman spoke earnestly of Yalapa’s magic. To be fair, many visitors to the tiny and semi-remote fishing village feel compelled to use that word. Such are the effects of its waterfalls, wildlife and workshops on everything from portal surfing to sacred orgasmic dance.

But this woman carries more credibility than others. Jeannie Hnytka first visited in 1989, long before WiFi and four-wheelers supplanted word of mouth tourism and still-popular donkeys, 12 years before she made it her home and host of her language school. (The WiFi still gets spotty when it’s cloudy out.)

“There’s magic here, but a different kind than other places,” she says in Spanish. “Yalapa reveals to you what you should learn.”

It showed me via pufferfish, polliwogs, land crabs, bonito and a special species of mezcal: raicilla.

It can be found at beach bars and trendy restaurants in Puerto Vallarta, where you can catch water taxis to Yalapa. Once at this jungle beach hamlet, though, the best spot to get the spirit made in the surrounding hills is in a local’s living room.

My innkeeper directed me down a dusty dirt road to meet a man in his 60s wearing a sweaty ribbed tank top over a spherical belly. While a soccer game played on the TV and his wife napped on an unadorned mattress, he decanted raicilla from big jugs into reused bottles that once held cheap vodka.

He wouldn’t budge on price, because he knows he’ll have no problem selling it. A sample quickly reveals why—it’s citrusy, vibrant, earthy mezcal that works like an upper rather than a downer, a sacred orgasmic dance in liquid form.

Raicilla is unsurprisingly scarce around the Monterey Bay. But suddenly it’s not as hard to find.

In a development that syncs poetically with the sixth anniversary of its debut in August 2017 (and Edible’s cocktail issue), Cultura Comida y Bebida in Carmel recently finalized a six-page, double-sided masterpiece of a mezcal list to complement its smart and health-conscious Oaxacan food from chef and partner Michelle Estigoy.

The spirits menu bursts with attentively sourced small-batch mezcals described by distiller, village and type of still used. There are scores of expressions all told, displaying depth and richness that makes a half-ounce pour plenty (one-ounce pours are the other option, as are clever cocktails like the Beets by Day).

Cultura managing partner Michael Marcy took me through hummingbird- scale sips of each of the raicillas on the list, which also includes other rare, regional and non-Oaxacan mezcals like sotols and bacanoras.

“The qualities are getting consistent,” Marcy said, “and really good.” Managing partner and chief mezcal curator Sarah Kabat-Marcy, who happens to be married to Michael, wants the extensive selection to do the ample agave options justice.

“It gives people the opportunity to explore the vast selection of Mexican spirits,” she says. “Each state has its unique options, and we want to let people in on what diversity there is, to experience the terroir of each spot and the artistry of each distiller.”

La Venenosa Etnica Tutsi, with a pleasantly rubbery nose and super clean profile, ranks among the most remarkable raicillas, but there’s not a miss in the group. Other standouts include a rich BoNeTe Costa distilled in a tree trunk, and its sister Sierra version, which carries the highaltitude terroir to the tastebuds like a well-made wine.

The sweetest of those I tried, a La Venenosa distilled in clay and resonant with caramel, might’ve been my favorite. The strongest, a sister Venenosa clocking in at 68 ABV, was stunningly smooth.

They’re great on their own, and also benefit from the contrasts that can be drawn between them. Paired with the sublime balance and seductive spice of, say, the house mango “ceviche” on a shaving of watermelon radish, a little splash of raicilla makes for—you guessed it—a type of magic all its own.