“You have to start with the worm.”
A seasoned tequila enthusiast offered this sage advice when asked to share the secrets of enjoying the best of all possible margaritas. I was expecting something more along the lines of an in-depth discussion of the merits of Cointreau over triple sec or adding agave syrup to sweeten, or perhaps even a sly suggestion of Don Julio Silver instead of the better known Patrón Blanco. But no. To truly partake of a memorable margarita, the expert insisted, you have to start with the worm.
Margaritas today come in all shapes (tumbler, martini glass, something plastic and cactus-shaped) and sizes (a chilled spirit-forward glass at Sweet Liberty, pitchers at Jaguar, 16-drink kits from Monty’s Raw Bar). They even, like the daiquiri, come in wildly different flavors.
The Biscayne tippler thirsty for margaritas might sip one from Kush made with watermelon juice and a slice of jalapeño. The Viet-Cajuns at Phuc Yea deliver margaritas mixed with white vermouth, cucumber, cilantro and a kimchee chili salt rim.
In the 1930s, however, there was only one margarita, a cocktail mixed in Tijuana for a largely American customer base who’d crossed the border to temporarily escape Prohibition. It may have been created by an Irish bartender for a young entertainer named Rita Hayworth (real name: Margarita Casino), it might have first been poured at an establishment called Daisy’s (“margarita” being Spanish for “daisy”), but it was always basically the same: lime juice, a salted rim, orange liqueur and an agave spirit, usually tequila.
It was that agave spirit that made the drink a classic. From Baja to Borneo to the Biscayne Corridor, nothing evokes Mexico so quickly and so thoroughly. But the worm? That’s actually not part of tequila culture at all.
Worms, as any seasoned expert could tell you, are found in bottles of mezcal. From a flavor perspective, this agave spirit is to tequila what Scotch is to whiskey: a smokier, smoother version that has earned a reputation as a premium spirit. Mexican authorities make sure that the mezcal label is only placed on spirits made from 100% agave, according to rigorous standards. To get further in the weeds, tequila can be a mere 51% agave, but only blue agave grown near Jalisco; mezcal can be made from many kinds of agave anywhere in Mexico … but this is getting further away from the worm.
The worm is actually a caterpillar, the larva of a moth that an enterprising mezcal maker found was linked to a better harvest. He left the worm in the bottle as a reminder of the cycle of life. They eat the agave, they pollinate the agave, we drink the agave. To be squeamish about the worm is to miss out on the full texture of existence.
Just ask the mixologists at Mayami Wynwood, who offer a selection of insect-infused shots. If you’ve been curious about what a scorpion, cricket or ant might contribute to a mezcal flavor profile, or if you’re just ready to seize life with both hands, here is a local opportunity.
But also, to the point of the tequila sage’s advice, mezcal makes for a fine margarita. There is a certain taboo against using sophisticated spirits in mixed drinks; for instance, many a mixologist would gasp at the suggestion of using Scotch in anything other than a Blood & Sand, a Rob Roy or, at the outside, a chancellor. A top-shelf mezcal margarita can change your way of thinking.
Here’s one recipe to start you on a path of enlightenment:
MARGARITA MEJOR
INGREDIENTS
- 1 1/2 ounces mezcal (try El Recuerdo or Tehuana Con Gusano)
- 3/4 ounce Grand Marnier
- 1/2 ounce lime juice
- 1/4 ounce orange bitters
METHOD
- Run lime wedge around the rim of a glass; press rim into a mixture of two parts sea salt to one part each cayenne pepper and smoked paprika.
- Mix liquids in cocktail shaker over ice, shake well, strain into glass and enjoy.
- If it’s hot outside and you’re thirsty, toss the mixture and ice into a blender instead of straining it. Don’t let anybody tell you you’re doing it wrong.