How to drink mezcal

The shot-glass approach to mezcal is wrong, but not because of any moral question about ritual – it's wrong because mezcal at 45% in a one-ounce shot glass goes from glass to throat without ever passing the part of your nose where most of the flavor lives. The category exists because of aromatics. Drinking it like tequila in a college bar is functional, but you're paying for a bottle and getting a percentage of what's in it.

The right glass is a clay copita – a small, wide-mouthed cup, traditionally fired in Atzompa or Santa María Atzompa near Oaxaca City. It holds about an ounce, leaves room for the spirit to breathe, and warms slightly in your hand without dampening the volatile compounds the way a chilled rocks glass would. If you don't have a copita, a small wine glass or cordial glass works. A large wine glass over-pours kill aromatics; a small one works.

Pour about a half-ounce – half a copita. Hold it under your nose without sniffing hard; let the air around the rim find your olfactory bulb on its own time. Cooked agave should arrive first, followed by whatever the producer's signature is – wood smoke, mineral, fruit, herbs. If the bottle is well-made, you'll get three or four distinct notes before you sip.

The first sip is for shock. It tells you the proof and the texture but very little about flavor. The second sip is exploration – you'll get the agave, the smoke if there is one, the palate weight, the finish length. The third sip is what you'll write down. Most criticism happens at sip three. Most ad copy happens at sip one.

Don't pair mezcal with citrus. The single most common mistake at a tasting is the orange slice with worm salt – invented as a marketing tool to soften commercial mezcals in the early '90s, now treated as tradition. Mezcal aromatics are fragile and citrus oils overwhelm them. If your mezcal needs an orange slice, your mezcal isn't good. If it doesn't need one, the slice is in the way.

Food helps but only certain food. Salt-forward, savory, slightly fatty – grilled meat, hard cheese, dark chocolate, mole. Avoid sweet desserts and acidic vinaigrettes; both fight the spirit. The Oaxacan tradition of pairing mezcal with chapulines (toasted grasshoppers) and sliced orange together at the meal works because the orange is incidental, not a chaser.

For your first three bottles: a Matatlán espadín at 45% (Banhez Espadín-Barril at $35, or Mestiza Negra at $20 to $29), a wild-agave at 47 to 50% (Bozal Tobalá or 5 Sentidos Cuishe), and a clay-pot ancestral if you can find one (Real Minero or Lalocura). That sequence – from cleaner to weirder to most-textured – covers the category's range and tells you which direction your palate wants to go.

The biggest piece of bad advice in mezcal is 'kiss it, don't shoot it.' The phrase is well-meaning and slightly patronizing. Sip it. Pay attention. The bottle isn't going anywhere.