Tomorrow, the residents of one particular state in Mexico will be celebrating the 137th anniversary of an unlikely defeat of French forces which effectively freed their ancestors from the paying of debts incurred by a collapsed previous government. As a rare act of solidarity and reverence for our southern neighbors, we gringos will grill up some carne asada and get totally shit-faced on Margaritas.

Now, far be it from the Bastard to disparage a socially accepted opportunity to drink to excess simply because the typical celebrants’ motivations are likely uninformed, misguided, or even overtly hypocritical. If God gave us drinking holidays, who am I to argue? But that said, the Margarita has never really been my drink. If I’m in the mood for something sour, I’ll generally throw together a Corpse Reviver #2 or a Daiquiri. But, as they say, when in Rome, embrace the heather swine’s sickening depravity. Or something like that. Which brings us to our next subject:

The Frozen Marg

Blended, a.k.a. frozen, Margaritas are beverages that booze snobs love to hate. Some Sauza (“tequila” quote-unquote) and sour mix diluted with water: what’s not to hate? But this is snobbery the Bastard just cannot get behind. Let there be no misunderstanding, I am constantly seeking out new and exciting opportunities to condescend and belittle those around me; but the frozen marg is just not the time. When you’re hanging with a crowd in your friend’s back yard to nom-nom on a plate of brisket, the mercury is sitting nigh 90°, and said friend has just juiced up his Margaritaville and handed you a stemmed punchbowl of green slush, you could be like, “Sorry, I don’t drink mixto.” But the next phase of the discussion would be about the relative merits of your remaining options: budweiser and tap water. You know this, so you gratefully accept the punch bowl.

Is it amazing? Is it sublime? Hell no. It tastes like a goddamn lime Slurpee. But you like Slurpees, this one will get you drunk off your ass, and did I mention its 90 fucking degrees? You drink the Slurpee and save your pretense for another day. Everything, it seems, has its place; even blended Margaritas.

The Un-frozen Marg

But can we do better? If we upgrade the tequila, jettison the sour mix, and put some cultural distance between ourselves and Jimmy Buffett, do we end up with something a cocktailian can be proud of? I have heard so, but reflecting on my past encounters with mixed Margaritas, I can think of none that have been more than marginal improvements of the frozen variety. For a while now, I have had a growing skepticism of the Margarita in general, so I am calling into question all the received conventional wisdom about the drink. Are top-shelf ingredients really wasted on the drink? Is the subtlety of a fancy platino simply unable to stand up to the lime and Cointreau? Having received a veritable bevy of white tequilas of late, yours truly has set out to discover for himself what makes a good Margarita, or if such a thing even exists.

There are a lot of potential variables in any cocktail recipe, but there are a couple things I know from past experience. First, the ideal recipe consists of a 3:2:1 ratio of blanco tequila, orange liqueur, and lime juice. This is a preference shared with Robert Hess and Gary Regan, so the Bastard is in good company. A good reposado can work, but I am typically more interested in tasting tequila than barrel in my Margarita, so save your aged tequilas for snifters.

Also, though without Jay Hepburn’s ferocity, I’ve sampled and mixed a decent selection of orange liqueurs, and found none that merited displacing Grand Marnier or Cointreau from my liquor cabinet (with the latter as my preference for Margaritas). However, I recently received two fifths of Hiram Walker triple-sec along with a mini of Cointreau and a challenge to try them side-by-side, not with the expectation that I would like the HW better, but just that it would compare favorably given the cost savings. I’ve had a few HW liqueurs in the past, and have never been much of a fan, but for all my cynicism I had to admit I was impressed by that level of honesty from the marketing department. It's a virtue that deserves to be rewarded, and they make a good point: when the economy sucks, you want to make your dollars count, especially where luxury items are concerned. So just this once, Hiram-Walker will get some blog space. Now, let’s meet the contestants.

Neat Tastings

Before we get to mixing, I want to establish some first impressions of the ingredients we’ll be using. I’ll save full-blown reviews for those who actually consume tequila on a regular basis. These are just my own tasting notes.

Hiram Walker Triple-sec

Simple and orangey. Take a valencia orange and zest it. You smell that? Thats what this liqueur tastes like. Nothing complex or particularly interesting, but nothing unpleasant, either. At 120 proof, the HW is quite potent, but the grain spirit base was apparently well filtered, as there isn’t the burn or nastiness you expect from cheap alcohol.

Cointreau

This is a different creature entirely. Both the sweetness and the alcohol are reduced in comparison to the cheaper triple-sec, and are replaced with a rich, spicy citrus bouquet. This is complemented with notes of honey, nutmeg, and crème brûlée. At this stage, the old adage appears to be true: you get what you pay for.

Lunazul Blanco Tequila

This is my standard tequila I keep on hand for mixing. It isn’t amazing, or memorable, but it's made from 100% agave, and at $17 for a fifth, it beats the crap out of the more popular mixtos sold at the same price point. The flavor is grassy and peppery, as you expect a tequila to be, but without much more than that.

Jose Cuervo Especial Tequila Plata

I’m no fan of the various Cuervo tequilas I’ve tasted in the past, but the ubiquity of the brand makes it a baseline for comparison, albeit a nasty one. This particular tequila is a new product presumably released to capitalize on the current obsession with white tequilas. It tastes like tequila-flavored vodka. My guess is that either the amount of actual agave is very low, or the product is filtered all to hell after the distillation. It smells like tequila, and at first hits with a blunt grassiness, but there is absolutely nothing on the mid-palette and it finishes with a rather harsh alcohol burn and an unwelcome, lingering, bitter aftertaste not unlike warm beer. Steer clear of this one.

Inocente Platinum Tequila

When I first received this sample, I was pretty skeptical. Fancy recycled-glass bottles, an annoying flash-based website, a limited New York-only release, and no aged offerings whatsoever: Inocente has all the trappings of the East Village hipster demographic. Upon tasting, however, I realized I had judged too quickly. This is a truly excellent spirit, even if it does seem to stretch the definition of tequila a bit. The grassy notes are still present in the nose, but quite mild on the palette, and alcohol burn is almost entirely absent. This is probably a result of the third distillation Inocente employs. What befuddles me is how so many other flavors survived the distillation process. It is extremely fruity, with notes of apples, mangos, and bananas. The limited availability of this tequila is rather tragic. Its my new favorite.

Tequila Ocho 2008 Single Estate Plata

Ocho, to me, seems like the most honest tequila of the lot: a high quality, single estate production; a simple, elegant bottle, signed, numbered, and dated; and no promise whatsoever that the tequila they make next year will taste like the one you bought this year. It has a distinct personality, which you will probably either love or hate. There are hints of vanilla in the nose, and a pungent, smokey flavor. It burns a lot more that I expect from a $50 spirit. It is a tequila through and through, but is oddly reminiscent of scotch (specifically, Laphroaig).

Lessons Learned

I did not try every possible permutation of tequila and liqueur, and you would not want to read about it if I had, but I tried enough of them to confirm what I began to expect early on: bad tequila makes bad Margaritas and there is no cheap substitute for Cointreau. Everything nasty about Cuervo remained nasty when mixed with lime and triple-sec, and even Cointreau couldn’t redeem it. The extra alcohol in the Hiram Walker was largely unwelcome. It knocks the drink out of balance, and the the orangey flavor didn’t magically become more interesting in the context of other ingredients.

That said, I did make a couple blended Margaritas, just for the hell of it, and learned a few things there. Its no surprise that Hiram Walker and lime makes for a better drink than sour mix, but it was news to me that it actually worked better than Cointreau. Fancy booze in a frozen Margarita just ends up tasting watered down. The sugary, high-proof triple-sec stood up to the melting ice much better, and upping the ratio to 4:2:1 helped as well. When you’re buddy wants to make a couple gallons of frozen margs, bring a handle of Lunazul and the Hiram Walker. It makes for a decent drink.

Now, on to the exciting part.

Repentance

So as it turns out, the Margarita may be my sort of drink after all. Everything I've ever been told about premium tequilas, Margaritas, and the latter being a waste of the former is a huge fucking lie. The Margarita truly can be both amazing and sublime.

Our runner-up, Tequila Ocho, makes for an interesting mixed drink: woody and smokey. These qualities are probably not what the typical Margarita drinker is looking for, and on most days I’m not either, but I did enjoy it and will probably give it another go from time to time. Save this for your more adventurous guests and tequila aficionados. For those who claim not to like tequila, don’t use this drink to try to change their mind.

An Inocente Margarita, however, is a devine gift that every human should have the chance to sample at least once in his life. The subtle fruitiness of the tequila blossoms into a complex array of flavors I can’t find adequate description for. This is the Margarita’s raison d’être, and the sort of rare discovery that makes the cocktail craft worthwhile.

Conclusion

The unfortunate truth is that few of us are likely to order a $600 case of tequila from New York for our Cinco de Mayo party. Save that Margarita for less crowded occasion. But the take-home message is that, sadly, there are no short-cuts to fantastic cocktails. If you want to make Margaritas you can be proud of, you'll need to buy the best ingredients you can reasonably afford, or invite fewer friends. (Keep in mind that there are plenty of expensive tequilas that taste terrible. Try to find a mini of any high-end spirit you want to taste before you blow a $50 on it.) If you just want something cold, sour, and alcoholic from the Margarita machine, then quality isn't quite as important. But for god sakes, no matter what other concessions you make, never ever buy sour mix. There is no cheaper or easier way to improve a cocktail than fresh juice.