How to Drink Tequila: Beyond Salt and Lime Rituals

Somewhere between the college party shots and the sophisticated sipping rooms of Jalisco lies a truth about tequila that most drinkers never discover. This Mexican spirit, born from the blue agave plant's patient transformation, carries within it centuries of tradition that deserve more respect than a quick slam followed by a grimace. The way we approach tequila in much of the world would make a jimador weep—those skilled farmers who spend years nurturing agave plants to perfection only to watch their life's work disappear in a blur of salt and citrus.

I've spent considerable time in tequila country, watching the morning mist rise over endless rows of spiky blue agave, and I can tell you that the disconnect between production and consumption is staggering. The care that goes into making quality tequila rivals any spirit in the world, yet we treat it like liquid punishment, something to endure rather than enjoy.

The Foundation: Understanding What You're Drinking

Before you can properly drink tequila, you need to understand what's actually in your glass. Real tequila—and I emphasize real because the market is flooded with mixtos that barely deserve the name—comes from the Weber blue agave plant, specifically from certain regions of Mexico. The best producers wait eight to twelve years for their agave to mature. Think about that for a moment. Over a decade of growth, just for one batch of spirits.

The categories matter immensely. Blanco (or silver) tequila rests for less than two months and carries the purest agave flavors—bright, vegetal, sometimes peppery. Reposado sleeps in oak barrels for two months to a year, picking up vanilla and caramel notes while mellowing the agave's sharper edges. Añejo ages for one to three years, developing complexity that rivals fine whiskey. Extra añejo, the aristocrat of the bunch, ages beyond three years and commands prices that would make your accountant nervous.

What you won't find in quality tequila is the worm. That's mezcal's territory, and even then, it's mostly a marketing gimmick that serious producers avoid. If someone offers you tequila with a worm, politely decline and find better friends.

The Temperature Question Nobody Talks About

Here's something that drives me absolutely mad: the obsession with ice-cold tequila. Chilling quality tequila is like wearing earplugs to a concert—you're deliberately muting what makes it special. Room temperature or slightly cool (think wine cellar, not freezer) allows the spirit's complexity to bloom. The volatile compounds that carry flavor need warmth to express themselves.

I learned this lesson the hard way during a tasting at Casa Noble. The master distiller served us the same añejo at three temperatures, and the difference was shocking. The frozen sample tasted flat, almost watery. At room temperature, it sang with notes of cooked agave, cinnamon, and dried fruit. Sometimes the best lessons come from being proven wrong.

Glassware: Why Your Choice Matters More Than You Think

The shot glass is tequila's worst enemy. It's designed for speed, not appreciation, turning what should be a contemplative experience into a race against your taste buds. For sipping tequila—which is how all good tequila should be consumed—you want something that concentrates the aromas while giving you room to swirl.

The Riedel tequila glass, with its tall stem and narrow opening, works beautifully. So does a champagne flute, oddly enough. Some purists swear by the caballito, the traditional narrow glass used in Mexico, though I find it a bit limiting for really exploring a tequila's aromatics. In a pinch, a wine glass works wonderfully. I've even used brandy snifters with excellent results, though some might call that heretical.

The key is surface area versus concentration. You want enough room for the tequila to breathe but not so much that the aromas dissipate before reaching your nose. It's a delicate balance, and honestly, after years of experimentation, I've concluded that the best glass is the one you have on hand when good tequila appears.

The Ritual of Tasting: Slow Down, You're Moving Too Fast

Drinking tequila properly is an exercise in patience. Start with your nose, but carefully—tequila typically clocks in at 40% alcohol or higher, and jamming your nose into the glass will only burn your sinuses. Hold the glass at chest level and slowly raise it, noting when you first detect aromas. This distance tells you about the tequila's volatility and intensity.

When you do bring it closer, try the professional trick of keeping your mouth slightly open. It sounds ridiculous, but it actually helps moderate the alcohol's impact on your nasal passages, letting you detect subtler notes. In a good blanco, you might find citrus peel, fresh herbs, or that distinctive mineral quality that comes from volcanic soil. Reposados often show vanilla, honey, and baking spices. Añejos can surprise you with chocolate, tobacco, or dried fruits.

The first sip should be small, just enough to coat your mouth. Let it sit for a moment before swallowing. This initial contact prepares your palate for what's coming. The second sip is where the magic happens—this is when you'll taste beyond the alcohol to find the agave's true character.

Food Pairings That Actually Make Sense

Forget everything you think you know about tequila and food. While margaritas with tacos have their place, sipping tequila opens up fascinating pairing possibilities that most people never explore. Blanco tequila, with its bright, herbaceous qualities, pairs brilliantly with ceviche, fresh oysters, or even sushi. The agave's natural sweetness plays off the ocean's brine in ways that will rewire your understanding of both.

Reposado finds its match in grilled foods—the char echoes the barrel notes while the spirit's inherent fruitiness brightens rich, smoky flavors. I once had reposado with wood-fired pizza topped with figs and prosciutto, and the combination still haunts my dreams. Añejo demands respect and pairs best with desserts or strong cheeses. Dark chocolate and aged tequila create a symphony that would make wine snobs reconsider their allegiances.

But here's my controversial take: the best tequila pairing might be no pairing at all. Sometimes the spirit deserves your undivided attention, especially when you're dealing with something special. A well-made extra añejo needs accompaniment like a sunset needs improvement.

The Salt and Lime Controversy

Let's address the elephant in the room. The salt-shot-lime ritual that dominates tequila consumption worldwide? It's training wheels, originally designed to mask the harsh flavors of poorly made tequila. Quality producers find it insulting, like drowning aged steak in ketchup.

The practice supposedly originated as a way to combat the burn of rough spirits—salt to numb the tongue, tequila for the quick hit, lime to cleanse the palate and mask any lingering unpleasantness. It works, technically, but it also obliterates any chance of actually tasting what you're drinking.

That said, I'm not completely dogmatic about this. If you're drinking mixto at a beach bar in Cancun, salt and lime away. Context matters. But if someone's poured you a glass of something special, something that represents years of cultivation and careful distillation, please give it the respect of tasting it unadorned first. You can always add training wheels later if needed.

Cocktails: When Mixing Makes Sense

Not all tequila needs to be sipped neat. The margarita, when made properly with fresh ingredients and quality tequila, is one of the world's great cocktails. The key is balance—the tequila should shine through, not hide behind an avalanche of sweet and sour mix.

My perfect margarita uses two parts blanco tequila, one part fresh lime juice, and one part Cointreau or high-quality triple sec. No simple syrup, no agave nectar, nothing else. Shake it hard with ice and strain it over fresh ice in a rocks glass with a salted rim. Half salt, if you want to get fancy—it lets you choose your own adventure with each sip.

The Paloma deserves more love outside Mexico. Tequila with grapefruit soda sounds simple, but when made with fresh grapefruit juice, a splash of lime, and good blanco tequila topped with sparkling water, it becomes transcendent. It's what I drink when the Texas heat becomes unbearable, which is basically May through October.

For reposado, consider the Tequila Old Fashioned. Use agave nectar instead of sugar, add a couple dashes of orange bitters, and you've got a drink that bridges the gap between tequila novices and whiskey snobs. I've converted many bourbon drinkers with this one.

Common Mistakes That Drive Me Crazy

Storing tequila in the freezer ranks high on my list of pet peeves. Unless you're dealing with bottom-shelf mixto (in which case, why?), cold storage only masks flavors. Tequila doesn't spoil—it's 40% alcohol, bacteria gave up before they started. Keep it in a cool, dark place like any other spirit.

Another mistake: assuming all tequila tastes the same. The variation between producers, regions, and production methods creates a spectrum of flavors as wide as any spirit category. Tasting tequila from the highlands versus the valley reveals two completely different flavor profiles, even when made by the same producer.

People also tend to pour too much. A proper tasting pour is about an ounce, maybe an ounce and a half. This isn't about being stingy—it's about maintaining your ability to actually taste what you're drinking. After three heavy pours, your palate is shot, and you might as well be drinking vodka.

The Investment Question

Good tequila costs money. There's no way around it. The time investment alone—remember those eight to twelve years of growing—means quality comes at a price. But here's the thing: a bottle of excellent tequila, sipped properly, lasts far longer than the same amount spent on mediocre bottles consumed as shots.

I generally advise starting in the $40-60 range for sipping tequilas. Brands like Espolòn, Olmeca Altos, and Cazadores offer legitimate quality without requiring a second mortgage. Once you develop a palate, moving up to the $80-150 range opens up remarkable possibilities. Beyond that, you're often paying for rarity or prestige rather than proportionally better quality, though some ultra-premium tequilas truly justify their prices.

A Personal Philosophy on Tequila

After years of exploring this spirit, I've developed what might seem like an overly romantic view of tequila. But when you've stood in an agave field at sunrise, watched jimadores work with the same tools their grandfathers used, and tasted tequila straight from the still, it's hard not to feel connected to something larger than just another drink.

Tequila represents patience in an impatient world. It's the antithesis of our instant-gratification culture—a spirit that literally cannot be rushed. When you drink it properly, you're participating in a tradition that stretches back centuries, honoring the work of countless hands that brought that liquid to your glass.

So next time someone hands you a shot glass and a lime wedge, maybe suggest an alternative. Pour a modest amount into a proper glass, take a moment to appreciate the color and aroma, and sip it slowly. You might discover that tequila isn't something to survive—it's something to savor.

The transformation from shot-slammer to tequila appreciator isn't immediate. It takes time, experimentation, and probably a few mistakes along the way. But the journey is worth it. Because somewhere between that first tentative sip and the moment you find yourself discussing the terroir of different agave regions, you'll realize you've joined a club whose members understand that the best things in life are worth waiting for—even if that wait is measured in years of patient agave growth under the Mexican sun.

Authoritative Sources:

Blomberg, Nancy. Tequila: The Spirit of Mexico. Abbeville Press, 2000.

Chadwick, Ian. In Search of the Blue Agave: Tequila and the Heart of Mexico. Wine Appreciation Guild, 2010.

Consejo Regulador del Tequila. "Official Standards for Tequila Production." crt.org.mx

Emmons, Bob. The Book of Tequila: A Complete Guide. Open Court Publishing, 2003.

Gaytán, Marie Sarita. ¡Tequila!: Distilling the Spirit of Mexico. Stanford University Press, 2014.

Hutson, Lucinda. ¡Viva Tequila!: Cocktails, Cooking, and Other Agave Adventures. University of Texas Press, 2013.

Martineau, Chantal. How the Gringos Stole Tequila. Chicago Review Press, 2015.

Mexican Official Standard NOM-006-SCFI-2012. "Alcoholic Beverages - Tequila - Specifications." dof.gob.mx

Parker, Mike. Tequila: The Essential Guide to Understanding and Enjoying Tequila. Sterling Epicure, 2014.

Romo, David Suro. "The Heritage and Culture of Tequila." Tequila Interchange Project. tequilainterchangeproject.org