The Side: Mescal
The first time I really sipped mescal was at a bar here in New Orleans. I had gone with a few coworkers for a post Saturday shift dinner. We arrived late, sat at the bar and closed the place down. I was shoving my belongings back into my bag, searching for my keys to unlock my bike out front when the owner invited the four of us to stay.
A lock in of sorts.
He quickly began to pull down bottles from the shelves, all mescal. He gave us detailed descriptions of the origin of each bottles before pouring us generous shots. Per his instruction I allowed the smoke liquid to rest on the groove of my tongue before swallowing deeply.
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