Day after Groundhog Day Tequila Tour - Figuring out 1942

As we all know, Señor Punxsutawney Phil did not see his shadow, indicating an early arrival of spring. What no one knows (and what you are about to discover), is that Friday night I polished off the last of our GCA and our Orgullo de Halisco Reposado. Whilst rapid-fire posting on the “The Smoothest Tequila” thread on playa.info, I discerned that both of these occurrences are reasons enough to celebrate (not that I needed a reason in the first place). I decided to make Saturday, February 3rd a tequila day! A day in which I would drink tequila, and find replacements for the aforementioned casualties. But maybe not in that order. The Orgullo was one we purchased on our honeymoon to PDC in 2005. It was fabulous. Well balanced, smooth, yet sweet. And cheering. It left big shoes to fill. Then there was the GCA. I knew in advance that there was only one thing that could possibly, adequately replace it (without getting another bottle of the same): Don Julio 1942.

Shortly after noon, I embarked on my journey. I knew exactly where to go to get 1942, but instead of hurrying there and then hurrying back, I decided to enter some uncharted territory to see if there was anything I was missing. A quick search online indicated that there was a potential goldmine of tequila about 30 minutes east of Atlanta. I found a couple more stores that looked promising and were conveniently located between this one and our house. The last two stops on the tour were my two fallbacks. The first of these is the Toco Giant in East Atlanta, the second is Greens Beverages in North Atlanta. These are two high volume stores upon which I can always depend to fill my habits of Belgian/German beer and, of course, tequila.

I’m glad I have the Toco Giant and Greens. The first three shops were not worth the effort (or gas). The first store wasn’t too bad, but nothing for which I’d travel that far again. The other two barely had a full shelf of the Cuervos, Montezumas, Pepe Lopez. Yuk!

Toco Giant is the only place I have found so far that carries the tequila “guns.” I’ve never bought one, so I can’t comment, but they always seem to have a bunch. In 2005 I briefly considered bringing one home from Playa. Then I decided that a gun-shaped bottle of tequila going through the X-ray machine at the Cancun Airport might look like a REAL gun going through the X-ray machine at the Cancun Airport, so I passed. Toco had both anejo and reposado versions of Milagro single barrels, Asombroso La Rosa and El Platino, a full compliment of Herraduras, Don Julios, Tres Generaciones, El Tesoros etc. After brief deliberation, I selected a bottle of El Conquistador Anjeo. I love the bottle. Obviously hand blown- full of bubbles and the bottom isn’t flat, so it can barely stand up.

At Greens, the tequila is right in the front as you walk in. Three shelves, each about 25 feet long. On the top shelf, the Milagros are on the left, then the Cazadores, Herraduras, Corazons, and Don Eduardos. The Patrons are in the middle, then the Don Julios, Corralejos, and finally, at the end Espolon. On the middle shelf toward the center, basically under the Don Julios, is the Sauza display. The Cuervo family, including the newer “flavored” tequilas are to the right. “Other stuff” is to the left and below.

After gazing at all the choices for about 15 minutes, checking my list against their stock, I did what I came to do. I walked over to the counter behind which they keep all the $300+ bottles of Hennessey, Courvoisier, and Johnnie Walker. Up on the top, almost at the far right, was my prize. To its right was Asombroso El Platino. To its left was Herradura Seleccion Suprema. To the left of the HSS was Don Julio Real. I was amazed to see the Real was $350 and the HSS was about $250. Wow. I know, I only live once, but who knows, maybe later. So without further ado, 3 hours, and $125 later, Don Julio 1942 bottle #0210914 was (still is) officially mine.

I returned home, and after taking the dog out for a potty break, began my tasting. I slowly opened the case, to reveal the place where the bottle should have been! I stood in shock. I know I’m absent minded but…ok this joke is dumb. The bottle was there, and it was beautiful. I grabbed one of my trusty Reidel stemless snifters, broke the plastic safety seal, and removed the cap. Then I upended the bottle with much anticipation as the straw colored liquid began to fill the glass.

[As I was trying to figure out in my head how to write this without making it I decided that if I did a review, I wasn’t going to make it one of those official sounding ones that talks about “such and such flavor on the nose” or “hints of this or that” or “effervesence” or “palete” or “finish.” With all due respect to the talented folks who write those kind of reviews, I think the can sound a little silly and sometimes uppity and pretentious, which I’m definitely not. For Christmas I received a page-a-day calendar featuring a different bottle of beer each day. It’s littered with reviews like that. Some are great and really talk about the good and bad of the beer in a meaningful way, others just make me laugh. Not to mention that we all know just how good 1942 is. Cue the free flowing thoughts…]

After a couple glasses I’m still at a loss in determining something to which I can liken the 1942. I noted a very strong scent of vanilla as I took a whiff before imbibing. The first thought that crossed my mind was, “how the hell have I been drinking tequila for so long without experiencing this. The second thought was “why the hell did I drink all that Cuervo in college?” This is the first tequila that I’ve consumed that has not left even a tingle on my tongue. And I held it in my mouth for a while to see if it was just time delayed. Nope. Now, I don’t mind some tingle as it often reminds me of the mystery that is tequila and the blue agave. The 1942 felt almost syrupy on its way down the hatch. It seemed to coat my throat and esophagus on the way down. I was intrigued by the way it stuck to the glass after returning it to its resting position. After but a single glass I was in heaven. So relaxed that I didn’t want to get up and do anything. The only other time I felt so relaxed was after having very very good white lighting with my uncle-in-law. It smelled like spring water and tasted like spring water, but it warmed me like a hot coal as it went down so I was certain that I hadn’t been duped.

I decided to make an evening of it and sample all of my tequilas. What an experience! The only thing I was able to decide that evening is that this whole “Figuring out 1942” thing may take some time. I’m going to suspend this for now, and add more to it as I work my way through the bottle. To be continued…

PS: My wife, Susan asked almost immediately how much my 1942 cost. I replied, “It doesn’t matter. You only live once, you know.”