Mexican tequila exports are booming. To meet demand, local farmers are monocultured with agave on a large scale, which is taking a toll on the environment. But there is an opposite movement.
Under the awning, Rubén Ravelero displays his pride and joy: miniature agaves, only a few months old, grown from seeds. Ravilello advises agave growers such as Benjamin Rosales, junior owner of Cascahuín, a small tequila distillery. He hopes to get the agave planted in the greenhouse into the field as soon as possible. “This is our future,” Rosales said.
A small revolution in the tequila industry seems normal. Rather than producing more and faster, agricultural economist Ravilello argues for a slower and sustainable tequila industry. This is not an easy task as the market is booming.
Mexico exported significantly more alcohol to Europe last year than the year before. Tequila exports to Spain rose 90 percent, France 73 percent and Germany 60 percent, according to Mexico’s tequila regulator.
In Jalisco, the Mexican wine region northwest of Mexico City, agave monocultures stretch to the horizon. In the town of Tequila (from which the tequila distiller gets its name), world market leader Jose Cuervo built an empire. Only tequila distilled from blue agave is allowed to be tequila in certain communities. Cuervo’s plant produces up to 400,000 liters per day. A success story, but also an intoxicating business story.
Tequila comes in a variety of qualities—from cheap, mass-produced offerings to long-aged premium liquors.
Five-year maturity process
The pace set by big industry doesn’t really suit Tequila. Because huge plants with pointed leaves need two things first: time and patience. It must be mature for at least five years before harvest workers “Jimadores” dig it out of the ground with sharp shovels.
It takes another three years for the plants to flower, be pollinated by bats and insects, and form seeds. This is where the problems start. To save time, and since the sap after flowering is of little use for tequila production, agaves almost never bloom.
Instead, farmers cut short the breeding process. They cloned agaves by cutting identical shoots from the roots to the parent plant. That’s good for business, but bad for the ecosystem, criticizes Ravillero, an agricultural economist. Round after round, the agave’s genetic diversity dwindled. Monocultures become more susceptible to fungi and pests.
“Agave has lost quality and heritability because the same plant is always bred.” Ravilello therefore supports a counter-movement that strongly advises farmers to wait. At least some of the agaves should flower and produce seeds from which hardy and resistant agaves will grow. In the short term, this means that not all agave can be turned into money. In the medium term, however, farmers can use the seeds to develop healthier, more resistant plants. “This is about the future of tequila and tequila,” emphasizes Cascaween’s Benjamin Rosales.
commercialize natural product
Support for the idea comes from a garage in Guadalajara, the capital of Jalisco state.Pedro Jimenez Gurria There is a tasting room here for tequila brandy lovers. He hardly serves tequila anymore. “Commerce destroys natural products,” he said.
Gurria, on the other hand, sells gin from smaller alternative producers under the Mezonte brand. He criticized that mass consumption in the United States and Europe was leading to the exploitation of Mexico’s resources and land. “The problem is greed“, Gurio said. “Every year, producers want to make more money instead of investing in a healthier landscape.”
In his view, the only way is to step on the brakes and reduce exports. Consumers should pay attention to the labels that now exist for more sustainable production. It’s called “bat-friendly,” and it’s awarded to wineries that allow 5 percent of their agave fields to bloom each harvest cycle, thereby operating in an insect- and bat-friendly manner.
Benjamin Rosales wants to have his tequila labeled, but he hasn’t done it yet. If he buys agave from other farmers, he has to do some persuasion. Most people want to harvest as much as possible, and often don’t think about tomorrow’s plants. “But for the love of the product, we wanted to slowly change that,” Rosales said. They hope to turn things around. For a healthier tequila, for tequila, for their own future.