
You were expecting something about tequila in this space? Given that Cinco de Mayo is right around the corner? Patience, my child. We'll get to it, but first we're going to discuss corn -- its versatility as a crop, its sudden spike in value and its effect on everything from gasoline prices to beef quality to the tequila you knock back each year on May 5.
Corn prices, as you may have read elsewhere (perhaps in Teresa F. Lindeman's fine Sunday story in this newspaper on the subject) are at an all-time high. So much of it's being used for ethanol, sweetener and livestock feed that there isn't enough of it to go around for food. What to do when faced with intolerable prices? You coax more corn out of your acreage, and the resulting bumper crop is supposed to drive prices down. Mission accomplished on the bumper crop -- the U.S. crop in 2007 was our biggest since World War II, with yields up 15 percent.
But there was no corresponding price reduction.
What does all this mean? It arguably means your milk is more expensive than it used to be ("arguably" because some researchers think that higher corn prices don't ripple through the economy the way farmers claim). It means exacerbated food shortages in parts of the world, and higher prices for the corn tortilla, a Mexican staple. And it means that Mexican farmers who had made a comfortable living on the spiky, blue-green agave plant, which gives birth to tequila, are razing the crop in favor of swaying corn stalks.
By the beginning of this year, according to some estimates, a full quarter of agave farmers in Mexico were expected to have set ablaze their plots to cash in on the corn prices, helping to meet worldwide demand for the grain, and the surging U.S. and Mexican demand for ethanol (last spring, Mexico's Congress passed a law requiring ethanol-infused, cleaner-burning gasoline to be sold in Mexico City, Monterrey and Guadalajara). All told, Mexican farmers saw prices fetched by corn increase 80 percent from '06 to '07.
And as (mis)fortune would have it for agave farmers, the surge in corn demand happens to have come just as agave prices are bottoming out.
"Around the time the millennium turned, armed guards protected agave plantations from robbers. Such was the high price of the primary ingredient of Mexico's national firewater," writes Sean Mattson, a correspondent for the Express-News of San Antonio. "These days there's so much agave azul that farmers are selling it well below cost -- if they're lucky enough to find a buyer at all."
What happened? Eight years ago, tequila's popularity waxed, as did interest in "premium" tequilas whose sugars are 100 percent agave-based ("mixtos" combine agave sap with other sugars in the fermentation process). At the same time, harvests were down because of agave rot, known as TMA (tristeza y muerte de agave, "wilting and death of agave").
To combat the shortage and meet the sudden international thirst for tequila, a new generation of agave farmers moved in -- speculators hoping to cash in on "blue gold," some of them growing outside of the "legal" tequila regions.
Long story short, they planted too much, and now everybody's hurting -- speculators, as well as the agave farmers who have waited up to a dozen years for their agave plants to mature to the point that their flesh and sap can be sold for tequila. In 2008, it's expected that tequila distillers will buy only half of the 1.6 million tons of agave that come to market, Mr. Mattson writes.
That's coupled by another round of diseased agave, according to Mexico's agriculture ministry, caused, perhaps, by neglect from farmers, who are tending their crops with less care because they can't get much return on it anyway.
The agave boom-or-bust cycle is nothing new, but typically it corresponds with demand. This time, demand remains high -- and yet agave farmers are bailing out of the business, rather than accepting pennies per kilogram on the open market.
What today is a price-killing glut of agave could become a shortage by 2010 or so, some small distillers worry, especially if U.S. tequila sales continue to grow by 8 to 12 percent every year (2007 sales were up 16 percent from 2006 in Pennsylvania). It's why distillers have been saving some of the excess agave for rainy days ahead, aging what's already been distilled in wooden barrels ("reposado" tequila means it's been aged between two and 12 months; "anejo" means a year or more; "ultra aged" has been in oak containers for at least three years).
How does that affect you? Not much. The unprofitable glut may disrupt production at a distillery or two. Many larger distillers, however, have insulated themselves from the unpredictable agave markets by keeping their own private fields.
The glut also means that it's cheaper to make "premium," 100-percent tequila, said Neal Alan Williamson, a Texan who opened his own craft tequila distillery under the brand name Tequilame. Sugars derived from other sources are, for now, more expensive than agave.
It's more affordable to make, but not necessarily cheaper on the retail shelves. For one thing, agave prices today affect future tequila prices, not what's currently available. The stuff on shelves now was made from agave planted and harvested years ago. And don't expect prices to come down in the future, either. Yes, the agave is cheaper, but fertilizer, fuel and marketing costs are going up, and those costs will be included in the price of a bottle.
Even if agave farmers continue to protest and burn their crops, there's no reason to expect major interruptions of the supply chain, Mr. Williamson said. The Mexican CRT (Consejo Regulador del Tequila, the agency that certifies and monitors the whole enterprise, from plantation to distillery) has the situation in hand. Farmers are now being compensated for their agave stockpiles through a government program, which is spending millions to buy some of the agave at triple or quadruple what the farmers could fetch on the market (but still not what the farmers were earning just three years ago).
So whether you've been drinking it since college or you've just jumped on the Patron bandwagon -- you know who you are -- don't worry your pretty little heads. Tequila isn't going anywhere. But wouldn't Cinco de Mayo be a good time to think about where tequila came from in the first place?
PG TESTED
Pour all the ingredients into a large old-fashioned glass filled with crushed ice. Stir and garnish with lemon or lime twist.
-- Bill Toland
Your basic Bloody Mary, with a buttery twist.
Put all of the ingredients, except the lemon, celery stalk and pepper, in a shaker filled with ice. Shake, pour over ice, add the celery and lemon to garnish. Pepper to taste.