• Jump to Bertha González Nieves' tasting tips.

IN THE COLONIAL city of San Miguel de Allende, located in the highlands of Mexico’s Guanajuato region, it was Día de los Muertos — a sacred holiday on which it is believed the dead return to the land of the living. I was attending a party at La Casa Dragones, the headquarters of small-batch tequila producer Casa Dragones, housed in a renovated seventeenth-century stable where the first conspiratorial meeting of the Mexican War of Independence from Spain took place. I followed a shadowy passageway filled with lush huele de noche (night-blooming jasmine) to a baroque candle-lit courtyard banquet. In the center of it all: the queen of the night. She was wearing a wide-brimmed black fedora and cowboy boots. “Welcome,” said Bertha González Nieves, Mexico’s first maestra tequilera (female master tequila distiller). Through slow, meticulous craft, storytelling, and partnering with the best chefs and tastemakers across the globe, González Nieves has played an integral role in reclaiming tequila’s ancestral image as a noble beverage for sipping and savoring.

“We loved the rebellious spirit,” says González Nieves, remarking on the La Casa Dragones’ history, now sitting in her sun-soaked New York City living room where she has invited me for a tasting. “We wanted to be known in the industry as modern and rebellious producers.”

In her early 20s, González Nieves was selected by the Japanese government to represent Mexican culture in Japan. As part of her training, she traveled around her country learning about different Mexican industries. This was when her love for tequila truly crystallized, and she ended up working for the oldest tequila producer, Jose Cuervo. After 10 years, she wanted to produce on her own, with the sole vision of proving that tequila can compete with other sipping spirits, such as cognacs and whiskeys — and that it can pair well with a range of cuisines. From “... Italian cuisine, to American cuisine, to Japanese cuisine … I wanted to prove that there’s a place for tequila,” says González Nieves.

She holds a glass of joven up to the light, a blend of a white tequila and one that’s been aged for three years in new American white oak casks. “If you look at the walls of your glass, you’re going to notice how the tequila has long and pronounced legs [the viscose streaks of liquid down the glass’s interior walls]. That translates into a silky body — a very important experience when you’re sipping a spirit straight. How the liquid embraces your palate is part of being able to appreciate a spirit.”

González Nieves instructs me to smell the back of my hand. “This is a tip for when you’re tasting wine or you’re tasting other spirits. It really brings your nose to a neutral place to be able to focus on what you’re about to appreciate.” She segments the top of her glass into three sections: lower, middle, and upper. We inhale at the bottom of the glass, the area where you sip. The notes are sweet. “Agave azul tequilana is a very sweet plant by nature,” she explains.

Much like wine, knowing the terroir is an important first step in understanding tequila. Based in the heart of the town of Tequila, Casa Dragones’ agave plants are rooted in nutrient-dense volcanic soil. “We have a very rich, semi-arid and semi-humid soil that is filled with obsidian. That adds a certain minerality and profile that is very evident in tequila.” The blue-green agave plant, which needs to grow between five to seven years before it’s ready to harvest, is a remarkably resilient crop. And the name “agave” is derived from Latin: “It means illustrious, admirable, and noble,” González Nieves says.

“We will eventually drink tequila, I promise you,” she says and tells me to position my nose right at the center of the glass. Only an inch up, and the aroma is totally different. “It’s almost like an orange peel perfume, right?” she says, softly inhaling. These layers are why González Nieves always knew tequila would reclaim its status. “The spirit commands it,” she says with a conspiratorial gaze. “The spirit has that — I know this doesn’t translate — but the medula, that core spine.”