| Kah Blanco |
With a gust of sand-wind, silence and nothing else, the agave plant rests for years until mature enough to be understood. The potential meaning in this, falls on those spiked, azure tendrils that release a comprehensible nectar acting as the lifeblood of an industry; which has, more or less, compelled beliefs that creating only three distinct forms of it’s prized spirits, has something to do with with both life, living and death. You can take that to such literal zeniths, but please, be calm...the intent is to use figurative language here. However, business rites claim that its commercial manufacture, or well-manicured paradigms, should represent something similar to a biblical triptych, where these three images relate: Blanco, Reposado and Anjeo. It’s not difficult to see where this theme is going, but it proves to be distinct enough for those who have sat down and wondered about birth, demise, or skullduggery of any sort. Whether or not life is meant to rest easily while sipping on something more complex than ourselves, or to scale-up the humdrum mawkishness of being, “pulque,” as it is called, won’t make any sort of life more tolerable.
| Kah Reposado |
It’s Tequila. Most people don’t know it, but those who do, still don’t. It seems that there’s an almost blatant hierarchy of subcultures that identify with the spirit, but there’s never really any exploration done. While we’re here, I might as well point out the players: You have “Margaritas,” not the cocktails so much, but those people who feel there’s very little worth to any of it, except, maybe, for a bland lesson in the burlesque nature of salt and fruit. There’s “Tidymen,” those who enjoy it strictly on ice, plain, or sometimes, without temperate highs and lows. Thirdly, “Students” are those who make the ill-fated choice to drink whatever’s there, when it’s there, without considering exactly “how much.” One of my favorites tends to be “The Insouciant,” who by large, you may not run into as often, but you really don’t want to. They’re like the “one-upper,” a jaded, inconsolable participant who thinks that people rarely appreciate such an underrated class of liquor, when in actuality, there’s no necessary comparisons, or intellectual browbeating needed to feel better than the next collector. He, or She has an exciting cellar of rarified, obscure, stolen, or illegal tequilas that makes an aficionado, but not any one those persons who really understand the scrabbling one needs to perform in order to make their own. Sure, they might have planned a trip to Mexico and got a tour of several distilleries, but I’m sure by now, you’ve absorbed the caricature.
Ok, enough assassination, let’s get to the body of the topic. Given the sort of pleasant popularity that Tequila has enjoyed as an accepted party-favor, or libation of credit, the bottles have not remained artless in their ability to raise questions about signature styles. Usually, the mythical misconception is that all of them tend to cause heavy convolution and sickness on par with drinking cheap, plastic-handle bourbon. That is still the case in some areas, but perhaps the most elusive gray point about good “T” is which one to buy. Now, I’m not always a label-chaser, or a sucker for eyeball marketing, but I have to admit that “KAH” has me drawn away from one of the rules that I strictly adhere to. Yes, this time, it’s about the art inside and out. Like I said, there’s three different age groups: Blanco, Reposado and Anejo. From beginning to end, they physically see more barrel ageing. Rather than make all the distinctions necessary to outline the differences, you’re basically getting the gist of a younger spirit versus an older one, or something that sits right in the middle. What I can say, is that the purity of the agave plant is shown in all three, with some spicier, citrusy elements forming in the two elder types. Regardless, it is all handcrafted, including the painted skull-shaped bottles.
| Kah Anejo |
I don’t always agree with artwork on any bottle, but this time it’s a bit of logic mixed with something cultural; realistically, the skulls give mention of a prominent Mexican holiday where the dead are remembered and revisited through something creative and very human. Maybe I’m too observant, but the illumination of the skulls represents a rebirth when they are so carefully adorned. A concern though, is when the bottles are finished...is there enough room in the house to keep a trove of skulls? You might have to give some away if you’re not an occultist, or a Tequila lover, but the fact seems to always pertain to the flavor of things. I would like to point out that the $50 price tag for each, is quite an investment, but there’s actually four bottles including the “Extra Anejo,” which is dotted with actual crystals. That itself will run up to about $200, which can add up in the end. So, In spite of the character of the bottles and the undivided quality, those eager collectors have some decisive matters to account for.
Lest they be dead, broken, or a combination of both.
Brian Maniotis
Wine Warehouse Team
Visit us @: westchesterwine.com
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