Sotol might be the hottest new item on cocktail menus, but the spirit has been brewing in Mexico for about 800 years.
Coming soon to a glass near you: sotol, a stout distilled spirit from the Chihuahuan Desert that’s causing a stir for its sustainability, artisanal production, and remarkable complexity.
Herbaceous and bright, sotol imparts immense flavors from its terroir, the environment where it grows. It can taste sweetly floral, earthen and leathery, or peppery green — and it has a creamy, smooth finish that begs to be savored.
More dynamic than tequila and less aggressive than mezcal, sotol is often grouped with these better-known Mexican spirits. But unlike tequila and mezcal, sotol isn’t made from the agave plant. It comes from spiky succulent shrubs called Dasylirion (or desert spoon) that are native to northern Mexico and southern Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Like giant green sea urchins, millions of spiny sotol plants grow wild in and around the region, from the fragrant pine forests of Chihuahua to the edge of New Mexico’s grasslands to the arid, rocky slopes of Big Bend National Park.
“It’s such a terroir-heavy spirit,” says Jorge Caldera, founder of Sotol Parejo, a boutique distillery in Chihuahua that produces micro-batches of 150 bottles or less. Caldera currently works with five vinateros (sotol distillers), all the fourth or fifth generations in their families to make sotol: Juan, Bienve, Chuy, Mario, and Chico. “It’s part of the history, it’s part of a tradition,” he says. “It’s an art form created by the vinateros being in connection with their senses and with nature. And that, for me, involves what being Mexican is.”
Every bottle’s label shows its vinatero, his village, the type of firewood and Dasylirion species he used, the microclimate, and the alcohol by volume (almost 50 percent).‘The true meaning of luxury, for me, is knowing the name of the maker.’
Sotol’s roots stretch deep into early Mesoamerica; its name comes from the Nahuatl (Aztec) word tzotolin or ‘palm with long, thin leaves.’ For thousands of years, Indigenous peoples relied on the plant for material and sustenance. They crafted baskets, mats, and twine from its fibrous leaves. Its pulpy hearts were baked and shaped into carb-rich patties that were dried and stored for months. About 800 years ago, people began fermenting its juices into a beer-like beverage likely used for religious and medicinal purposes. The Spanish introduced distillation in the 1500s, and sotol as we know it was born.
Over the centuries, small-batch sotol distilleries took hold in northern Mexico’s sparse, rural landscape. After wild-harvesting the plants, vinateros roasted the hearts for several days and pounded them into pulp to extract the juices, which were then fermented and distilled. Sotol Parejo’s vinateros still bake the hearts as their ancestors did in underground conical stone pit ovens. “It’s not as efficient as using an autoclave,” says Caldera. “But the flavor, which is more important to us, is going to be more historically accurate.” Every bottle’s label shows its vinatero, his village, the type of firewood and Dasylirion species he used, the microclimate, and the alcohol by volume (almost 50 percent). “The true meaning of luxury, for me, is knowing the name of the maker.”
It is a spirit that has something to offer everyone, from fantastic cocktails to a rich 10,000-year journey in history or a great lesson in botany.
Long considered “moonshine” for countryfolk, sotol was once illegal in Mexico. But the government now protects it with a denomination of origin (DO), and only the states of Chihuahua, Durango, and Coahuila can produce the spirit. The United States, however, does not recognize Mexico’s DO for sotol. Texas distillers like Desert Door have gotten into the game — prompting no little aggravation in Mexico, but also increasing awareness of sotol. Based west of Austin in the Hill Country, Desert Door developed a new steam-based processing method and has harvesting rights to 40,000 acres in southwest Texas. Co-founder Brent Looby is a true believer.
“I’m 1000% confident that sotol as a category will leapfrog mezcal within the next five to ten years,” he says. “Consumers are looking for a more flavorful experience as they reach beyond their favorite tequilas, out for a mezcal, and more often than not it’s just a bridge too far. I love mezcal, but it can be very polarizing.” Sotol contains no artificial colors or flavors, added sugars, or herbicide residues; wild-harvesting requires no irrigation and the root stays intact (unlike agave). “It is a spirit that has something to offer everyone, from fantastic cocktails to a rich 10,000-year journey in history or a great lesson in botany.”
While sotol is yet to show up on most people’s radars, trailblazing bars and restaurants are shining a light on its fascinating character—like Don Artemio in Fort Worth, a James Beard finalist for Best New Restaurant in 2023. Devoted to the culinary heritage of northeast Mexico, Don Artemio recently hosted a five-course tasting dinner with pairings of Parejo sotol. Many guests had never tried the spirit before. Don Artemio’s bartender Dylan Sanderson is passionate about sotol and its ability to forge authentic, meaningful connections.
“I like to think we can build real cultural bridges as service workers that allow guests to genuinely relate to others through shared experiences, without them having to travel too far from home. Since sotol is one of the most ubiquitous spirits made in the desert regions of Mexican border states, which act as a sort of geographical bridge between the U.S. and the rest of Mexico, it’s only fitting that we get to refer to the work of bringing this product to the guest as cultural bridge building,” he says. “It’s a damn good spirit that’s funky and sweet all in the right ways but still fresh, and its nuanced characteristics make for good storytelling with my guests.”
For Jorge Caldera, each sip of sotol is an invitation to get to know his homeland—and to cherish the moment. “It’s such a sensory experience and spirit that it creates a bond with the flavors that can transport you,” he says. “Sotol was made to create memories.”
Photography: Courtesy Jorge Caldera/Parejo Sotol
