The Spirits Producers Reclaiming and Honoring the Terroir and Culture Colonialism Captured

The Spirits Producers Reclaiming and Honoring the Terroir and Culture Colonialism Captured

The legacy of colonialism continues to define business today, from fast fashion to farming to spirits.

While many individuals and organizations are beginning to denounce overt examples of cultural appropriation and serious debates around reparations for descendants of enslaved people in the U.S., the UK and elsewhere are finally gaining some traction in the halls of power, many of the products we consume regularly—from your favorite dish at your local takeout joint to spirits—are arguably products of a culture’s plunder and conquest.  

And too often, the process, even today, of creating those almost universally beloved delights are done in such a way that injury after injury—economically, socially, culturally—is added to the original foundational insult of colonialism writ large. 

Exploitation, including colonialism, is at the heart of all consumerism. However, in the drinks industry, some producers are trying to rewrite the script. Read on for insights from spirits makers doing their part to make change, deliciously. 


Tequila Makers Prioritizing Economic and Cultural Sustainability 

Tequila’s popularity in the U.S. has been spiking for decades, and in 2021, it actually outpaced sales of whiskey and is now lapping sales of vodka, traditionally America’s preferred spirit of choice. By 2027, it is expected to reach $27.7 billion in sales. 

But the rise of the distilled alcoholic beverage made from the agave tequilana plant cannot be separated from colonialism. Tequila’s roots date back to around 1000 B.C., when the Aztecs made pulque from the sap of the agave plant. Back then, the drink didn’t take the form we know today. It wasn’t until the 15th century, when the conquistadores arrived, that the brandy-deprived Spaniards allegedly improvised and developed a recipe for mezcal. By the 1600s, Mexico’s first industrial-sized distillery in Tequila, Jalisco, opened its doors. 

For centuries, local Mexican families, like the Cuervos and the Sauzas, developed and perfected the sustainable farming and production of artisanal tequila and mezcal. (Technically, all tequila is mezcal, but not all mezcal is tequila). 

In 1936, the Margarita was invented, and multinational corporations and organized crime rings got involved. The process of making the drink was soon industrialized, and as tequila’s profile grew, celebrities like Sammy Hagar, Elon Musk and Kendall Jenner launched their own brands. 

Today, several spirits producers are working to restore tequila’s local roots while also using its soaring popularity as a way to elevate more contemporary ideals.

Cierto Tequila, founded in 2017 by tequila investor Todd Chaffee and fourth and fifth generation agaveros (agave farmers) and Master Distillers Enrique Fonseco and Sergio Mendoza, was created to elevate artisanal tequila-making on a global stage.

“Enrique and Sergio’s families have tended land in the Jalisco Highlands for 150 years,” says Jim Ruane, Cierto’s chief growth officer. “They have a unique perspective as generational landowners and are invested in preserving the land for generations to come.”

Credit: Cierto Tequila

In contrast to industrialized agave farmers who lease their land, Cierto’s farmers seek to enrich the soil with every harvest, rotating crops with legumes and other restorative crops, Ruane explains. They also eschew chemicals and harvest only fully mature agave, which is not only better for the environment but produces more “rich and complex, agave-forward tequila.”

At Nosotros Tequila & Mezcal, founded by Costa Rican native Carlos Soto, the goal is to promote community in every sense. 

“Our motto is ‘drink less, drink better,’” Soto says. “We don’t promote shot-taking. We prefer to focus on a nice drink at sunset with friends.”

But it goes much deeper than that. 

“Since I first entered the industry in 2015, I’ve seen tequila grow by leaps and bounds,” Soto says. “It’s had a fantastic impact in many ways, providing jobs to communities in Jalisco, something that is often overlooked. More than 90% of our workforce is female, and most of them are the heads of their households. We are really proud of that because, historically, tequila has been male-dominated.”

Credit: Nosotros Tequila

Unfortunately, there has also been a dark side of success in terms of environmental sustainability—something Soto and his team work hard to combat. 

“We are as sustainable as possible, from harvest to bottling,” he says. And unlike many major brands, Nosotoros only uses “a blend of fully matured highland and lowland agaves. By allowing them to reach full maturity, they can regenerate and thrive in the native land. The big guys in our industry are now cutting agaves at two to four years of age, which depletes the soil and harms the ecosystem,” said Soto.

Their tequilas are also additive free and bottled in 100% recycled glass. In partnership with EcoDrive, any carbon produced through online purchases of Nosotros is offset by planting trees.

As Nosotros does its part for the environment, Soto also says it’s prioritizing social justice by promoting team members from within and providing women with positions of authority at the company. Distiller Citlali Ovalle is one of the first and only female Master Distillers in Jalisco. 


A Liqueur That Symbolizes Resilience Amid Evil and Destruction  

Jackie Summers, the first Black American to receive an alcohol distiller’s license in the U.S. post-Prohibition, decided to introduce the world to a drink that members of the Caribbean diaspora have been making at home for hundreds of years. 

Credit: Sorel

“Everything I have ever learned about my Caribbean background was through food and drinks,” Summers said, explaining that his father was a chef and that every meal became a delicious history lesson. 

“I realized I wanted to share some of this story myself about 13 years ago when I had a cancer scare,” Summers says. “My doctor found a tumor in my spine the size of a golf ball. He gave me a 95% chance of death. I lived it, but it changed me. It changed my perspective and my priorities.”

Summer’s determination to introduce a hibiscus-based liqueur with centuries of history did not result in immediate success. 

“Sorrel was fermented in Africa at least 1,000 years ago,” Summers says. “But it wasn’t until people and spices began to be traded and sold across the Caribbean about 500 years ago that it traveled. Those people and spices were often thrown together into the bottom of ships. These people were raped and forced into slavery. Everything was done to strip them of their individuality and identity. Their families were broken apart. Their names were changed.”

But amid the destruction, those same people used the hibiscus flowers and spices they were traded alongside to hold onto a piece of their history. 

“There was no writing allowed by slaves, and therefore, no recipes,” Summers says. “So sorrel was reborn in the Caribbean.”

For hundreds of years, members of the diaspora have been making some version of sorrel at home. 

“But no one ever thought about making it shelf-stable,” he notes. “It took me 624 tries at my home kitchen until it worked. As it turns out, hibiscus is a diva. The citrus notes it delivers are so powerful, but balancing it with sugar masks it. I offset the issue by surrounding it with other botanicals: cloves for brightness, ginger to mask the heat of alcohol, nutmeg for a dry woodsy flavor, cinnamon for warmth.”

Summers says that he sees his spirit brand Sorel as a way to begin to “change the narrative around Caribbean and African culture. It’s harder than it seems. There has been a concerted effort for generations to quiet the voices of people from marginalized communities. I see this as me planting a seed, and perhaps in many years from now, we’ll see a strong tree.”

There is a lot of work to be done to overturn centuries of systemic inequality and injustice, and a handful of brands out there reclaiming and honoring the places and people they come from can’t do it all themselves. Unfortunately, we can’t move the needle too much simply by sipping their spirits. But it may help a little, especially when the drink and the story behind it, is shared with friends.  


Cierto Tequila Private Collection Blanco: grapefruit, cooked agave, rosemary, light pepper, creamy. 40%. $89. 

Nosotros Tequila Reposado: Brown sugar, caramel, vanilla, cooked agave, pepper. 40% ABV. $40. 

Sorel: Complex, with notes of hibiscus, plum, caramel, spice, citrus. 15% ABV.  $42.

 
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