The much anticipated news that Pernod Ricard had acquired a mezcal company finally hit, with perhaps the biggest surprise of all being who it acquired– Del Maguey. Pernod will take a majority stake in the US’ number one mezcal company. The exact terms of the deal were not disclosed. According to the press release and what we have heard from the company, the current management team and staff remain in place and all operations in Mexico remain intact as well. Read more
Posts tagged ‘ron cooper’
That would be Ron Cooper of course. He has a show up at Franklin Parrasch right now. According to Ron they’re a “continuation of 1965 light pieces.” If you’re interested in the subject dig into this book which was published along side the big Pacific Standard Time exhibits in and around LA in 2011 and 2012.
Stay tuned. He’ll have an additional show opening in Taos in May.
I just chatted with Ron Cooper who is in Oaxaca meeting about COMERCAM’s directors. He says that “After 6 1/2 hour meeting with more than 300 producers, magueyeros and comericalizadores from all states, the present directorship was voted in for another three years.”
Next up, a potentially huge meeting about the NORMA in Mexico City on March 4th. More on that as we know it.
It was a dramatic arrival in Oaxaca – two Dramamines and the never-ending seven hour pinche viaje through the mountains, the hustle of the just closing Abastos market and the insanity on the Periferico (the “boulevard” that runs around the southern edge of the centro) – there were no taxis so I dragged my bag through the puesto-laden streets on uneven sidewalk amid a stream of people. I couldn’t have been happier, no really, as the smells and chaos made it clear that I was home in my querida Oaxaca.
I took a few days to settle in – to see friends, unpack, buy groceries – before I went to In Situ for the first time. Owned by Ulises Torrentera and Sandra Ortiz Brenna, it is a mezcal lovers dream. The original mezcaleria was located inside Txalaparta Bar. About three or so weeks ago, it opened in its very own location at Morelos 511 in the Centro.
This is what you see when you walk in – an entire wall filled with mezcal bottles. About 61, give or take. You also see bowls of mandarin oranges, jars filled with pepitas, and of course the beautiful faces of Sandra and Ulises, perhaps the two foremost experts on mezcal.
On this particular night, there was also flor de maguey escabeche and an amazing queso from Etla. As I caught up on the news with Sandra, a group of about 10 people led by Ron Cooper of Del Maguey walked in, reinforcing that In Situ just might be ground zero for all things mezcal.
I calculated that to try all of the mezcals, I would have to drink 2-3 mezcals each day. The mezcals are from all over Mexico and are un-branded for the most part (which is of course traditional.) The breadth not only of espadins, but also the silvestres is stunning, and I can only imagine the time spent meeting and procuring all of the different bottles.
This particular evening, I tried a verde, coyote, madrecuish and an ensemble that had barril, madrecuish, espadin and a little coyote. I have to say that I am really liking the verdes – the flavor is pungent and fresh and runs a little sweeter than most of the other magueys in the Karwinsky family (cuishes, etc).
More adventures on the horizon…
A recent interview with Ron Cooper in Class Magazine reminded me that long before he got into mezcal he was a dynamic and important part of the Los Angeles art scene that has been exhaustively chronicled by the big Pacific Standard Time exhibits across LA this year. There’s a bit more about it in this LA Times Magazine piece from 2009 but here are just a few great reminders of the fecundity of that scene and Cooper’s role in it:
A recreation of the Ball Drop film for the the PST series. John Sedlar’s second Los Angeles restaurant Playa celebrated the entire PST exhibit by creating a secret menu featuring a special Ball Drop cocktail for their PST menu in February. I can attest that it was something special.
None of this is exactly news but given that Jonathan Barbieri from Pierde Almas and Guillermo Olguín from Los Amantes are both painters perhaps there’s a trend here. Who knows what other creative ventures by mezcal makers are out there.
It was 2003 on a stretch of road between the city of Oaxaca and Teotitlan del Valle. We’d hired a driver for the day to visit some weavers based in this Zapotec pueblo. It sounds luxurious, hiring a driver, but back then my Spanish was poor and the realities of second-class buses and colectivos (shared taxis) to get there seemed daunting. So three of us pooled resources and hired a driver, Tito, to act as guide for the adventure.
This was my first trip to Oaxaca, and I was drawn there by the promise of moles and colonial buildings and brilliant colors. This was how I often chose travel destinations. The fact that it was also timed with Dia de los Muertos, that I was traveling with my mother who had invited herself along (she too lured by those same promises) just made it that much more of an adventure.
But back to that road, the late afternoon, the golden light playing off the surrounding mountains and fields of green and yellow, windows open and fresh air flying around us. I yelled to Tito – Tito, who’s got the best mezcal in Oaxaca?
He whipped his head back to me and said – “Mezcal, you want the best mezcal?” And looking at my mom, at the other woman in the car, we all yelled “YES” and he slammed on the brakes, stopping in the middle of the road and gestured toward the mountains saying – back there, back there. And so he made a u-turn, heading back toward Teotitlan, and then turned right on a dirt road, driving for a half hour (or so it seemed on that rutted out road) until we pulled in front of a tall wall with a beaten up metal door. He got out, banged on the door, we heard an exchange of gruff voices, and then the door opened and he waved for us to follow as he disappeared behind the wall.
It was only two days before when I had my first taste of mezcal. I was a tequila drinker and couldn’t understand why it was so hard to find in Oaxaca. Of course I had heard about mezcal, though usually in derogatory terms from other tequila drinkers – rot gut was usually mentioned in the same sentence. Mom and I decided to try it one day when we were wondering through Benito Juarez market by the Zocolo. I can’t remember what brand it was, but it was awful – cloying, smoky, yellow in color and harsh. And the final affront – a worm at the bottom of the bottle. It wasn’t an experience to make me want to try more.
But then, that night, after much confusion, conflicting information, and wandering lost through the streets of Oaxaca, we finally caught up with the roving street parade, or comparsa, and arrived at the municipal cemetery or panteon, for the Dia de los Muertos fiesta. The cemetery was ablaze with candles, casting shadowy lights across the flower-laden graves, the walled tombs, the altars. We stood back, slightly shocked at the idea of a full-blown party in a cemetery. But then someone passed us a bottle, filled with a clear liquid, and told us to drink. It was sweet and sharp at the same time, and as it moved down my throat, a sudden fiery sensation shot through my body. I passed it to my mom, and then suddenly hands pulled us into the melee and we danced to the live banda music echoing through the cemetery, until hours later, we made our way back to the centro, feeling oddly alive.
So yes, we got out of the car and followed Tito into the unknown space. A man with long dark hair was shaking Tito’s hand, and then ours. His name was Ron, and surprisingly, he was from the United States. He led us into a small room filled with tanks and stools. He told us of how he got to Oaxaca – a tequila fueled binge that began in Los Angeles, and then continued on the Pan American highway, until Oaxaca, where the paved road ran out, and apparently so did the tequila, so he turned to mezcal and fell in love. He spent years after that traveling the state of Oaxaca, in search of the best mezcal he could find in small pueblos. And eventually he began bottling what he found and created Del Maguey. We sat in that cold room, listening to his stories while he poured us the fruits of his travels, and explained what mezcal was (not a tequila), how it was made (the aching manual process), how the varieties of magueys (27) had their own unique flavors. How they were so delicious and complex – sweet, citrusy, sharp, earthy and green. No bottle like the other. And like the night before, it coursed through every part of my body, tingling, warming, soothing. And so I fell in love.
I savored every drop of those three bottles I brought back, loathe to finish as I had no idea when I could go back for more.
Ken Price, a key figure in the post-war LA art scene currently celebrated in the PST shows across Southern California died Friday. His gallery work is amazing but his most seen work is also somewhat anonymous because he did the iconic illustrations for Ron Cooper’s Del Maguey mezcal line. Read some nice appreciations of his life in the New York Times and Los Angeles Times obituaries.
Update: The Wall Street Journal also has a great obituary that just ran.