If you’ve been reading about agave spirits over the last 10 years, you’ve almost certainly come across Emma Janzen’s award winning work. One of the elements that makes her work so fresh and compelling is her ability to synthesize academic rigor and conversational ease, producing long and short format works that feel like a breath of fresh air in a sometimes overcomplicated space. Her passion and continued commitment to growing and evolving with the agave and cocktail industry is apparent here, as in her published works. With a packed schedule of exciting things to come, I’m looking forward to her forthcoming projects. Follow her on instagram to stay up to date.
Where did you grow up?
All over the place! My parents worked in the psychology and mental health fields, so we moved around a lot when I was living at home, and that nomadic lifestyle is kind of baked into my DNA now—I live to travel and learn about other cultures, and I get antsy to move somewhere new about every five years or so, haha.
To be specific: I was born in Austin, Texas, but then lived in Ohio, Florida (where my brother was born), Virginia, and then did a brief stint in Midland—the Friday Night Lights part of Texas! I went to middle and high school in Colorado Springs, did my first year of college in Boulder, and then transferred down to Austin to go to the University of Texas (where my dad went). After that, I moved to Chicago, and I’m currently living in Michigan.
If I had to drill down to the places I connect and identify with the most, I’ve spent about a third of my life in Texas, so that’s probably the closest I have to a “homeland.”
What did you study, what was your first job?
I went to school for film production and got a degree in Radio-TV-Film from the University of Texas. I was most interested in art direction (and architecture) and film editing, but by the time I was graduating, the industry down there was looking very uncertain as the state government refused to provide competitive tax incentives for film productions—New Mexico and Louisiana were getting all of the films, and I didn’t want to stick around in a realm with so much job uncertainty (which is laughable now as a writer/freelancer, but hindsight is 20/20 and whatnot).
So my first gig outside of school was as an editorial intern for a magazine called Texas Architect, which led to me getting a job as an editorial assistant at the local newspaper, the Austin American-Statesman. I worked my way up there to multimedia producer, creating audio and visual projects for both news and entertainment departments. (Part of the reason I was hired was due to my video editing skills, I think—this was back when newspapers were all operating under the “more video” directive.) Eventually, I also started to write about the drinks scene in Austin, which led me to getting the Liquid Austin beat—I covered beer, wine, cocktail, spirits, bars, news, you name it, for about three years before we left for Chicago.
When and where did you first learn about mezcal, taste it? What was your introduction to mezcal?
Memory is fickle, but one significant “intro” moment I had that sticks out in my mind is from Tales of the Cocktail. Ron Cooper was on a panel about the “spirituality of spirits” or something similar, where he talked about how mezcal was so interwoven into the culture and history of Mexico. At that point, I had read Wayne Curtis’s book And a Bottle of Rum and was starting to think about the ways spirits could represent something beyond a delicious way to get a good buzz going. I didn’t think much about the anthropological side of spirits before that; about how you could learn something about a culture through the lens of what they drink, so looking at mezcal that way was compelling. That’s probably when I really started to pay attention to what was happening in the mezcal space, around 2010. My first print article for the Statesman was inspired by that Tales panel—it was basically a 101 about Mezcal, and it was translated into Spanish for the Ahora Si imprint.
From the get-go it was the cultural connection that drew me in, because I didn’t see the same kind of thing happening in the vodkas and whiskies and gins made in the USA. And while it was certainly not my first introduction to mezcal, I do have a really vivid memory of the first time I tried Mezcal Vago: Judah Kuper was in town launching their first expressions to market: Elote. My jaw hit the fucking floor with that first sip. It was a total eye-opener. So different from what I was used to finding in the expressions from Del Maguey—much higher proof, so many layers of rich, soulful, flavor. It was so intriguing. If I had to nail down a “that was the moment I was hooked” moment, that was certainly a big one. Paired with the backstory of what Aquilino and family were doing—this was still when Del Maguey was keeping their producers a secret—it brought culture and family and soul together with this eye-opening flavor, which I think is maybe why it sticks out in my mind so much.
Who has been most influential in your journey?
It feels like a cliche/overused answer these days, but when I was getting started in the drinks writing realm, I found so much inspiration in the approach Anthony Bourdain took to reporting on global food cultures. The way he would observe and listen and engage, showing so much respect for the places and people he visited really resonated. He never made it about himself, as so many other hosts/writers sometimes do in the food and beverage space—that was key for me—and he was a master at cutting through the bullshit, writing in a way that was direct but also beautiful and compelling. It was never really about the food, it was about the humanity, you know? When I write about mezcal, for me it’s not about which variety I like the most, or which brand tastes the best—it’s about the people and the place and all of the elements that go into making that spirit meaningful. Sometimes I do to write those “this is the best mezcal” roundups because that’s what editors send my way, but when that happens I usually fight to bring in stories about the people and the way they do things and the politics and economics and environmental issues, etc. etc., to remind folks of all the humanity that goes into every bottle.
How do you describe your role in the agave world?
At its most basic: as a journalist, my role is to serve as a medium between producer/spirit and reader/drinker. I cultivate relationships with the people who work in the mezcal realm, observe/watch/listen to how they do their thing, and learn what’s important to them, and then aim to tell their stories with compassion and integrity.
What are your current endeavors?
I’ve got a lot on my plate, as usual. Books-wise, I’ve got one project currently in post-production, one manuscript just filed with an editor, one proposal I’m shopping around with an awesome NYC bartender, and another one I’m negotiating collaboration terms—I’m exhausted just listing all of that out, hahaha! I’m also an academy chair for the World’s 50 Best Bars organization, which is taking me around the world in search of the most interesting and innovative bar programs; it’s an insane privilege to get to go to so many countries, learning about different drinks cultures and getting to meet so many amazing people doing good work in the cocktail bar scene. I’ve got a cool assignment on deck from the Tales of the Cocktail foundation at the moment, and I’m also a co-chair for the Spirited Awards for Writing and Media again this year, so that’s also nipping at my heels (in a good way). Finally, I’m sitting on a few story ideas I’m hoping to pitch out to editors once I can catch my breath.
What’s next? Looking forward…
I’m just about to get started on a second edition of Mezcal! I’m adding about 20k new words, with new photos and essays and revisions to some of the information in there that’s outdated. SO MUCH has changed since I wrote it in 2016, so it’s going to be pretty drastically different than the first version. This is a good thing, I think—I’ve grown a lot as a writer since then, and my network has changed dramatically as well, so this new edition should have more depth and substance than the first one. I also have almost two years to get it together, which is remarkable considering I was only given about four months to write the book the first time. Back then my network was primarily white American brand folks and bartenders—I remember doing my best to hustle and get as many Mexican and Indigenous perspectives as I could into the text, but I was super limited on that front simply because I wasn’t as connected in the industry in the way I (think) I am now (always room for improvement). With the new edition I’m hoping to better center Indigenous perspectives, and change the way some of the sections are framed and presented. There are just too many non-Mexicans in there right now.
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