© UNESCO/Carlos Tomas
A sea of blue agave

The agave plant that grows in the valleys of Jalisco (Mexico) is useful not only for making the famous Mexican liquor. The blue plant confers identity on the whole region, which is now inscribed on the World Heritage List.

"This sea of agave stretches from the slopes of the Tequila mountain to the deep gorges carved out by the Santiago river."

A sea of blue, the shade of neither sky nor water, with a tinge of green and grey, colours the austere lands of the Jalisco valleys. This sea of agave stretches from the slopes of the Tequila mountain to the deep gorges carved out by the Santiago river. From the mountain top, the kingdom of agave appears in all its immensity. The spiny plants shaped like bluish-green stars trace well-defined lines. They form a vast mantle of pointy leaves patiently absorbing the rays of the sun to transform them first into sugar and then, through human intervention, into tequila.

They say agave is tough, like the people who live around it. That it takes root in arid lands from which it draws life and blooms. It is fibrous and resistant. Patient, but also joyful. Its long and robust leaves fan out from their spherical stem, which they render almost invisible. It is the piña, the ball, head or heart of the agave, the ground-level tabernacle where the plant stores the juice that one day will be transformed into tequila.

You have to wait at least eight years for agave to mature. Then comes harvest time. The jimador, the person in charge of the harvest, chops off the agave leaves one by one to clear the heart, which weighs at least 20 kilos.

Patience. You can’t hurry nature. Nor the good tequila drinker. He knows about the number of years agave plants need to mature, the experience of the men who cut them one by one, the hours if not days of roasting, at low temperature. He knows you have to wait until the juice ferments, then put the juice through the stills the Spanish imported. And after that let it rest peacefully, in the dark and cool of the casks.

That is why the good drinker sips tequila when he is settled in his equipal, large wooden armchair typical of the region, in the cool shade of a patio or terrace. He drinks it with the respect you give to an ancestor, and with the gratitude you owe to someone who has taught you to appreciate waiting.

Agave is equally generous to children and sober people. The piña is comprised of segments that are easily separated once it is cooked. The pieces, which in the heat of the oven take on a bright coffee colour, make a delicious treat. Along the side of the road, on town squares and during village fiestas, people sell this peculiar delicacy, which you chew to extract the very sweet juice until you are left with tasteless fiber, which you then spit out. Agave is also a source of honey.

Tequila has acquired a reputation as an acrid beverage. The golden age of Mexican cinema portrayed it as an incendiary spirit that burned the throats of brave Mexican caballeros and incited them to fight. But now finally tequila has shed its image as a drink reserved for men. It is often enjoyed at home with the family as a cocktail. Even though it can be mixed with sodas, connoisseurs prefer it “dry”, which is to say pure. They serve it in a caballito, a small glass designed to accommodate all the aromas of tequila, or else in little earthenware jars. An increasing number of women also appreciate it. Some mothers even dip their finger in tequila and rub their children’s gums with it to soothe toothache.

In Mexico, cloudy afternoons that inspire contemplation and intimate conversation are called tardes tequilaras, but any day is good to sip this national drink, produced with patience and wisdom in the magnificent blue sweep of the Jalisco fields.

Photo 2: © UNESCO/Carlos Tomas
Agave plant

Phot 3: © Ignacio Gómez Arriola
Alambiques at San José del Refugio, Jalisco, Mexico.