Ilegal Mezcal Volume 5

OAXACA, MEXICO

VOLUME 05

VOLUME 5

ILEGAL MEZCAL

OAXACA, MEXICO

ILEGAL MEZCAL Cover Photo Credit: Sarah K. Craig

SUSU = USUS Incomparable rock duo SUSU, composed of Kia Warren and Liza Colby, have a lot to say. Ilegal Mezcal sat down to talk about launching their project during the pandemic, not being able to tour for a year, centering Black perspectives in rock music, (not) doing mushrooms in Europe, and upcoming album Susie, the precursor to their EP Panther City.

02-03

04-05

ARTIST FEATURE: EL PATOJISMO SUSU

07

10

11-13

16

MEET MAXIMÓN

COCKTAIL RECIPES

ARCHIVE LA CUADRA PT lII

ABOUT ILEGAL MEZCAL

ILEGALMEZCAL.COM

/

@ILEGALMEZCAL

1

2 ARTIST FEATURE

ILEGAL MEZCAL

VOLUME 05

ARTIST FEATURE:

OAXACA, MEXICO

SUSU

Incomparable rock duo SUSU, composed of Kia Warren and Liza Colby, have a lot to say.

Ilegal Mezcal sat down to talk about launching their project during the pandemic, not being able to tour for a year, centering Black perspectives in rock music, (not) doing mushrooms in Europe, and upcoming album Susie, the precursor to their EP Panther City.

By E.R. Pulgar Photo Credit: Sarah K. Craig

Photo Credit: Sarah K. Craig

may 2021. It’s a Saturday, a sunny spring day at Ilegal Mezcal HQ in Brooklyn’s seaside Greenpoint neighborhood. The drinks are flowing, the air is full of levity and hard guitar, the sun is glimmering off the nearby water. A small crowd is converging around Kia Warren of Black femme punk duo SUSU as she jumps off a pool table with tambourine in-hand. Supporting trio guitarist Joey Wunsch, drummer Ronnie Bruno, and bassist Connor McClelland are tearing it up on the nearby stage — partner-in-crime and co-lead vocalist Liza Colby is posted on the pool table rocking out on tambourine between vocal belts. In this bubbling pot of roiling guitars, soaring voices and howling lyrics breathing life into a setting that until that point in our post-COVID world seemed like a far-off fantasy: a good old-fashioned rock show.

LISTEN

OAXACA, MEXICO

VOLUME 05

“Time is fucked up for me [these days], but I remember this was our third show in two days after lockdown,” Kia recalls warmly. “It was a one-two punch, where we were really just trying to test the waters and see if this was possible, that we could play shows with people. It almost felt like a dream. By the time we played at Ilegal, we were like, “Fuck it, this could be the last show that we have in a while”, so we were going balls to the wall because we didn’t know when the next opportunity would be.”

That first cathartic whirlwind of shows, preceded by a pair of shows at the Bowery Electric, kicked off the Bar Ilegal tour, and the first time SUSU had performed live since early 2020. These early sets in New York served as a site for release for the duo and their audience alike, but that energy — that swirling hurricane of freedom — is nothing less than the vital core of SUSU’s craft.

Their first EP Panther City is an embodiment of this energy.

A five-song storm from start to finish, the EP syncretizes heartbreak, fears, romantic nostalgia, and starting over by way of reverberated electric guitar, chugging bass, and rock drums. The great bridge between all of this is the epic duet of Warren and Colby, twin dragons with soaring vocals drenched in soul and glittering with the rattle of a tambourine. “It can’t be over / That’s what I told you when you said goodbye / And I’ve got you on my mind all the time,” they sing on mid-way track “It Can’t Be Over”, a vulnerability sung with such strength. It’s an anthem to everyone who has ever wanted someone, and who has had to pick up the pieces and continue on.

Panther City was made at Niles City Sound in Fort Worth, Texas. The record was produced by Ilegal Mezcal and engineered by Josh Block, who co-produced and served as drummer.

Alongside right hand engineer Joel Raif and a studio band — guitarist Nik Lee, rhythm guitarist and organist Andrew Skates, bassist Aden Bubeck and drummer Jordan Richardson— SUSU brought their first work to life with all the full-throttle energy of a live recording, although Warren prefers to call it a “sonic experience”.

After making the record, the band were slated for a largely sold-out European tour in February 2020, and a debut show on Valentine’s Day 2020 at classic East Village venue Berlin Under A. The venues were booked. Th . e band got on the plane. If you’ve been alive these past two years, you know how this story goes.

“We had different legs of the tour: we started in Austria, went to Italy, we finished off with a strong effort in Spain, and the Spanish bookers called our tour manager, canceling one by one,” Kia recalls. “When we left [the U.S.], coronavirus was something that was being talked about, but it was still very distant. My boyfriend who’s also a musician was like, “Have you guys heard of this?” And we’re ‘ignorance is bliss’-ing it. And then we’re in Croatia in the second week of our tour, finishing this Blues festival — sweating, having the time of our lives, sold out shows — and we get into bed…” “...Both of our mothers are West Indian, and neither of them are alarmists, and both had sent texts to us being like, ‘Please don’t go to Italy and be really careful out there,’” says Liza. It’s March at this point. After a non-fruitful hunt for psychedelics, the band is tucking themselves into bed when their phones start going off. “It’s like a fucking strobe light is going off and my phone is blowing up,” says Liza. “Everybody that I know is hitting me up being like, ‘You guys have to get home right now.’ It was just mayhem; Kia’s trying to get on the phone with our airlines...we all look at each other and we’re like, ‘Yeah, it’s probably pretty smart that we didn’t do the mushrooms.’

As the band returned home and went into lockdown, any idea of a tour and actually launching the project on the road became a distant fantasy. Kia moved to Los Angeles pretty much straight from Europe, to isolate from older parents. As the world plunged into despair, SUSU found themselves on opposite coasts at the height of the age of ZOOM and with a lot of raw material from Europe.

“When we played at Berlin [Under A], it was like a classic New York City set, like thirty-five minutes. The next 10 days in Europe,

ILEGAL MEZCAL

ARTIST FEATURE 3

we were just hustling to make sure we had 90 minutes for the road,” says Liza. “So we’re playing the shows, nobody knows these fucking songs because we were working the songs out the day before the songs were performed on the first day of the fucking tour,” says Kia. “There weren’t many assets or grants or applications that were helping artists [during the height of the pandemic]. But the other thing is, motherfuckers who weren’t about it have fallen off. We were able to do eight singles, videos, placements for them, and record a new album that we’re gonna start rolling out this year.”

As the pair speak to me over the video chat void we have all become all-too-familiar with, their chemistry could not be more in-sync. Finishing each other’s sentences while across the country from one another, as if we were interviewing at an intimate distance at a dive bar. It’s this chemistry that would allow them to make a full-length album remotely, eventually being able to enter a studio as time went by and restrictions softened.

“It’s called Susie, and it’s 13 songs, 11 are originals, and it spans the gamut of the SUSU spectrum,” says Kia. “There’s a song that has a country lilt, and there’s kick-you-in-the-face Debbie Harry New York City rock n’ roll. There’s some tropical. There’s some references to my Jamaican and West Indian roots. I feel like with this album, we were really able to craft the story as much as the sound.”

Over the course of 2020, the pandemic raged alongside the streets as the Black Lives Matter movement took hold. The question of racism, accountability, and centering the voices and experiences of Black people came to the fore everywhere from politics to punk. A decolonization and racial reckoning was taking place, one SUSU has not shied from.

Let’s speak plainly: Big Mama Thornton’s music was covered by Elvis Presley and Janis Joplin and was not given her flowers, Sister Rosetta Tharpe could play guitar with the best of them, contemporary Black femme British punks Big Joanie should have more credit, and rock music is Black music.

SUSU’s spin on Buzzcocks’ punk classic “Ever Fallen in Love” belies this fact; it seems an audacious move, to try their hand at a Britpunk classic like that, but they do it so effortlessly that those who may not know rock’s history would mistake it for an original.

“One of the things Kia and I connected on, especially in the downtown New York City, was like I was not seeing other Black women where I was like, ‘holy shit, you are my contemporary and your voice is crazy and you’re inspiring me,’ says Liza. “Part of it is like when we’re on stage together, I think you’re getting like, not only do you get to hear Black women who are singing and who have big voices and we’re actually singing, but two Black women who are best friends showing people that you can have access to this, that this is here, that rock n’ roll is not dead, that Black women singing is not dead. You don’t have to just go into rap. You don’t have to go into soul. You can sing rock n’ roll, and it’s totally accessible.”

SUSU got it’s name from a Patois word loosely meaning “to create chatter around something.” Liza and Kia, beyond spreading the gospel of a punk rock that centers the Black femme experience, attribute a meaning to their name and it’s inverse. SUSU backwards is USUS, and their music concerns just that: all of us who have felt excluded, who have felt like the world could be better, who got tired of fighting for it and chose to dance between battles.

“Black people have always been on the wave; when we go into the studio, it’s not like ‘we’re Black woman doing rock and roll’ — it’s like, ‘does this song bang?’”, says Kia. “It’s more about utilizing ourselves as the guiding star and being aware. When I was a kid, I was seeing maybe Tina Turner or Poly Styrene, but I wasn’t seeing this across the board thing. I think of SUSU as this world where anything fucking goes and we’re not limited by any labels and we want everybody to be a part of it. I hope it becomes something people identify with and can find solace in. But right now, it just feels important to honor first our voices and then the world can do what it does.”

4 EL PATOJISMO

ILEGAL MEZCAL

VOLUME 05

OAXACA, MEXICO

PHOTO CREDITS: ISRAEL RAMOS

EL PATOJISMO IS PREPARING THE NEXT GENERATION OF GUATEMALAN LEADERS

By E.R. Pulgar “It was around ten or twelve years ago, when I was [feeling] lost and had a couple beers here, that the ideas started to dance in my head,” says Juan Pablo Romero Fuentes, the founder of Ilegal Mezcal community partner El Patojismo, tells our global brand ambassador Gilbert Marquez over shots of mezcal. “Fifteen years later, we have a big beautiful school,” he says with pride. “Soon, we’ll have the Centro Oportunidad. A bunch of kids turned an idea into an institution, and that’s beautiful.”

The experimental education center, located in the small town of Jocotenango in Guatemala’s Valle de Panchoy, lies somewhere between a high school, an interdisciplinary vocational academy, a restaurant, and a hub for community youth activism. Outside of a metropolitan area, and devoid of the resources that such a location would entail, Romero Fuentes wanted to create an inclusive and safe space for the children and young adults of the area to grow, learn, and prepare themselves for the future.

This emphasis on education as a site for mutual aid was a huge part of the conversations Romero Fuentes was having in 2004 with Ilegal Mezcal founder John Rexer when they met at Café No Sé, our flagship bar in Antigua. Not far from Jocotenango, our space — already the by-product of Rexer thinking outside the box when he came to Guatemala way back when — has been known to provide the backdrop for outsider souls with revolutionary ideas to gather and dream up a different world over shots of mezcal. In Romero Fuentes’ case, the creation of a school that actually served the youth of his underserved town.

“The idea was to think about what a school should look like,” he says. “It was [about] creating dignity. I didn’t expect it to grow very effectively for obvious reasons: in Guatemala, the system is every day against you. It’s the biggest monster we have to defeat.”

Imagining outside of the limits of the Guatemalan education system has paid off.

Founded in 2006, the project was first run out of Romero Fuentes’ house as a primary school.

From humble beginnings, El Patojismo has since grown to include several projects serving the community of Jocotenango. At the core of the organization is the Los Patojos school, which now offers classes for both children and young adults, as well as a restaurant that serves the town run entirely by enrolled students.

The hybrid work-school concept both stimulates the local economy and syncretizes valuable soft skills learned at Los Patojos into invaluable real-world experience.

Effectively providing 320 days of educational instruction compared to the 200 days mandated by the Guatemalan Ministry of Education, El Patojismo is a community effort through and through. When faced by a system that would rather see youth in areas like Jocotenango languish, thinking outside the box is the standard for meeting — and exceeding — a community’s needs. “To me, the constant feeling of anger mixed with hope and love…El Patojismo is a result of that,” says Romero Fuentes.

a young adult, imagine: you’re done with school, you don’t have a job, you don’t have opportunities. What’s the point of getting an education if you’re not going to be able to work?

We’re making an institution where you can learn different things: cooking, business, innovation, technology, public relations, and we put them together as a restaurant so you’re simultaneously running your own business locally.”

One of the school’s most disciplined pupils and Romero Fuentes’ protégé Ester Salasar is the embodiment of that final part of the dream.

A longtime student of the school, Salasar is prepping to one day take it over, stepping up to the plate and paying it forward for her community and her mentor in a big way.

“To me, the constant feeling of anger mixed with hope and love…

El Patojismo is a result of that.”

ROMERO FUENTES, FOUNDER

“Ester is one of the strongest people I know,” says Romero Fuentes. “In Guatemala, there’s a lot of hate when you do things like this. People complain but don’t do much, and come at you when you do make things that [leave an impact].

Ester is going to take my place. She’s ready to lead the entire organization.”

PHOTO CREDITS: ISRAEL RAMOS

This love and unity is perhaps best illustrated in the public mural El Patojismo’s students have created in town, a verdant and lush work inspired by the flora and fauna of their country in an increasingly environmentallyembattled zone. “We’re against the rich perspective of bringing a muralist who gives a tour and charges $10 to show something on the street — if it’s on the street, it’s for everyone,” he says. “We are putting flowers and Guatemalan nature on the walls so the families can see local families first and recognize the importance of nature. We don’t have any more green areas left in Jocotenango, so the more art we put up encouraging the protection of it, the more we expect a big impact.”

El Patojismo may be centered on lifting up the youth of Jocotenango, but the school’s core mission lies in preparing them for a future beyond the town. “We’re building the final part of the dream, he says.

“We took care of the kids, but when you’re

Despite everything they are up against, Romero Fuentes maintains a hopeful outlook for the future of El Patojismo and it’s alumni. “I hope we can create a local economy and change the idea of education in the comunidad, because the young people can learn how to run a business, have an identity, have a sense of life, make sure they understand the value of money as a resource and use it correctly so everyone can have a better life,” he says. “Imagine, you’re eighteen, you just graduated, you’re done with school, you understand business, you understand technology, you’re great with the arts, you’re healthy, you do sports…these are citizens that can change the path of an entire country.”

WATCH OUR

MINI-DOC

OAXACA, MEXICO

VOLUME 05

ILEGAL MEZCAL

EL PATOJISMO 5

CRÉDITOS FOTOGRÁFICOS: ISRAEL RAMOS

EL PATOJISMO ESTA PREPARANDO A LA SIGUIENTE GENERACIÓN DE LÍDERES

By E.R. Pulgar “Fue hace diez o doce años, cuando [me sentía] perdido y me había tomado unas cervezas, que las ideas empezaron a bailar en mi cabeza” dice Juan Pablo Romero Fuentes, el fundador de nuestro compañero comunitario El Patojismo. “Quince años después, tenemos una hermosa escuela,” dice con orgullo. “Pronto, tendríamos el Centro Oportunidad. “Unos chicos convirtieron una idea en una institución, y eso es bellísimo.”

blandas aprendidas en Los Patojos en invaluable experiencia en el mundo del trabajo.

diferentes cosas: cocinar, negocios, innovación, tecnología, relaciones públicas, y las juntamos en el restaurante para que estés simultáneaLa escuela proveé de 320 días de instrucción edu- mente aprendiendo a manejar un negocio local.” cativa comparada con los 200 días mandatorios por el Ministro de Educación guatemalteco. El Ester Salasar, una de las pupilas más disciplinaPatojismo es un esfuerzo comunitario radical. En- das de la escuela y la protégé de Romeo Fuenfrentados con un sistema que preferiría dejar a los tes, es la encarnacion de la última parte de ese jóvenes de Jocotenango a languidecer, activistas sueño. Un estudiante de hace mucho tiempo de como Romero Fuentes nos enseñan qué pensar El Patojismo, Salasar se esta preparando para un El centro educativo experimental, encontrado fuera de los límites del estado es el estándar para día ser líder del instinto, dando un paso hasta la en el pueblo chiquito de Jocotenango en el Valle realmente satisfacer — y exceder — las necesiplaca y pagándolo hacia adelante para su comude Poncho en Guatemala, cae entre una escuela dades de una comunidad. “Para mí, ese constante nidad y su mentor de una manera enorme. secundaria, una academia vocacional interdisci- sentimiento de rabia mezclada con esperanza y plinaria, un restaurante, y un lugar de encuentro amor…El Patojismo es un resultado de eso” dice para la joven comunidad activista. El pueblo está Romero Fuentes. fuera de una comunidad metropolitana, y sin los “Para mí, ese constante sentimiento de recursos que una localización así podía proveer, rabia mezclada con esperanza y amor...

Romero Fuentes quiso crear un espacio inclusivo El Patojismo es un resultado de eso” y seguro para que los niños y jóvenes adultos de ROMERO FUENTES, EL FUNDADOR Jocotenango puedan crecer, aprender, y prepararse para el futuro.

Este énfasis en la educación como un sitio de ayuda mutua fue una gran parte de las conversaciones que Romero Fuentes tuvo con el fundador de Ilegal Mezcal John Rexer en el 2004, cuando se conocieron en nuestro primer bar en Antigua, Café No Sé. No muy lejos de Jocotenango, nuestro espacio — ya el producto de Rexer pensando de manera original cuando llego a Guatemala por primera vez hace muchos años — ha sido el escenario perfecto para unir a almas forasteras con ideas revolucionarias mientras sueñan en crear un mundo mejor entre sorbitos de mezcal. En el caso de Romero Fuentes, la creación de una escuela que realmente ayude a los jóvenes de su pueblo con pocos recursos.

PHOTO CREDITS: KÏA TAVERNIER

Este amor y unidad se encarna en el mural publicó que los estudiantes de El Patojismo han creado en el pueblo, una verde y lozana creación inspirada por la flora y fauna de su país en una región que cada año tiene menos naturaleza.

“Nosotros estamos contra la perspectiva de traer un muralista a dar un tour y que todo el mundo pague $10 para ver algo que está en la calle — “La idea era pensar en como una escuela se desi está en la calle, es de todos,” dice Romero bería ver”, él dice. “[Se trataba] de crear dignidad. Fuentes. “Estamos poniendo flores y naturaleza No esperaba que creciera de manera efectiva guatemalteca en estas paredes para que las fapor razones obvias: en Guatemala, el sistema milias vean primero que nada a familias locales está contra ti todos los días. Es el monstruo más y reconozcan la importancia de la naturaleza. grande que tenemos que vencer.”

No quedan muchos espacios verdes en Jocotenango, entonces creando más arte como el mural Imaginando fuera de los límites del sistema edu- alienta a su protección…esperamos que tenga cativo guatemalteco le ha servido. Fundado en el un gran impacto.”

2006, el proyecto empezó en la casa de Romero Fuentes como una escuela primaria. Desde estos El Patojismo está centrado en levantar a los comienzos humildes, El Patojismo ha crecido jóvenes de Jocotenango, pero la misión clave de la y ahora incluye varios proyectos que sirven a la escuela es prepararlos para un futuro más allá del comunidad de Jocotenango. En el centro de la or- pueblo. “Estamos construyendo la última parte ganización está la escuela Los Patojos, que ahora del sueño,” dice. “Nosotros cuidamos a los niños, ofrece clases para niños y adolescentes, cuyos son pero cuando ya están grandes, imaginate: termilos dueños y empleados de un restaurante que naste la escuela, no tienes un trabajo, no tienes sirve a todo el pueblo. El concepto híbrido de una oportunidades. ¿Cuál es el punto de obtener una escuela-restaurante sirve dos propósitos: estimula educación si no vas a poder trabajar? Estamos a la economía local y sincretiza las habilidades creando una institución donde puedes aprender

“Ester es una de las personas más fuertes que conozco,” dice Romero Fuentes. “En Guatemala, hay mucho odio cuando uno hace cosas cómo está. La gente se queja pero no hacen nada, y te buscan la contraria cuando tu si haces algo sustancial. Ester va a tomar mi lugar, esta lista para asumir liderazgo de toda la organización.”

Con todo lo que están peleando contra, Romero Fuentes mantiene una visión positiva del futuro de El Patojismo y de sus alumnos. “Espero poder crear una economía local y cambiar la idea de educación en nuestra comunidad, para que la gente joven pueda aprender a manejar un negocio, a tener una identidad, a tener un sentido de lo que es la vida, y entender el valor del dinero como un recurso usado de la manera correcta para que todos tengan una vida mejor,” dice. “Imaginate, tienes dieciocho años, te acabas de graduar, terminaste la escuela, entiendes de negocios, entiendes la tecnología, eres bueno con las artes, eres saludable, haces deportes… estos son los ciudadanos que cambian la trayectoria de un país entero.”

MIRA NUESTRO

MINI-DOC

6 MEET MAXIMÓN

ILEGAL MEZCAL

VOLUME 05

OAXACA, MEXICO

MEET THE MAYAN FOLK SAINT WATCHING OVER BAR ILEGAL

By E.R. Pulgar enter any of our spaces, be it Bar Ilegal in Oaxaca or our flagship space Café No Sé in Antigua, and you’ll find a familiar friend lurking underneath the dim candlelight.

If you look carefully, you’ll find yourself in front of a nook replete with flowers, cigars, sweets, money and shots of mezcal left in reverence. These offerings are for a man of many names, a small Mayan man in a hat, a colorful scarf, and sunglasses who could drink you under the table.

He’s a regular, and he goes by many names: San Simón in Guatemala, Don Monchito by disciples, El Gran Abuelo by family. More widely, and to the Ilegal family, he’s known as Maximón. His story is a winding one.

Mainly revered these days as a folk saint of vices, he’s gone through several incarnations, taken many guises, and left quite a reputation.

We describe him on our website as sitting “at a crossroads between deity and trickster, friend and fiend.”

Indeed, he’s known by those who revere him as both mischievousmaker and protector. Morally sitting somewhere between the Greek god of communication Hermes and the Zulu troublemaker spirit Tokoloshe, Maximón is the embodiment of the two-sided coin of good and evil that is humanity. He is a womanizer who is also the protector of couples. He is a grandfather and a partner-incrime. Perhaps the most important aspect we associate with him is Guatemalan Indigenous resistance.

His syncretized mythos spans Mayan history, the horrors of Spanish colonialism, and the life of a Mayan elder named Ri Laj Mam. According to one legend, he encouraged an uprising against the Spanish colonizers who were attempting to take Guatemala in the late 1500’s and was executed for revolting.

He is said to have reincarnated as a judge named Don Ximon, a steadfast advocate for landback policies for Indigenous Guatemalans. Another myth speaks of a picaresque Don Juan figure — hired by traveling fishermen to protect their wives while they were at sea, he went on to sleep with all of them before skipping town. Others whisper of a trickster spirit who was subdued by the shamans of Santiago Atitlán and went from being a terrorizing force to

a protector of evil. In the temple attributed to him in the Guatemalan town of Santiago Atitlán, special attendants accompany his effigy by drinking and smoking the night away as they stand guard alongside it.

That Maximón’s following continues to be so fervent in Guatemala speaks to the tight-knit nature and love present in the contemporary Indigenous Maya community. During the early 1980s, the Guatemalan military undertook a notorious “counterinsurgency operation” targeting Maya peoples and alleged communists. Now known as the “Guatemalan Genocide” — to some, “The Maya Genocide” or “The Silent Holocaust” — the mass-killing left between 30,000 and 166,000 Maya dead or disappeared by the government amid the backdrop of a civil war and targeted antiIndigenous sentiment. The survival of Maximón’s mythology — that he is a protector of lovers and freedom fighters alike — and his reverence is proof positive that they failed.

His feast day is October 28th. On that day be sure to pour one out and raise a glass to an icon of Indigenous communities thriving in Guatemala, our protector of the bar, our jokester elder. Maximón’s totem is present at Café No Sé and Bar Ilegal because he is present where a good time is happening, where music rings from the windows and out the speakers, where people are meeting and drinking and talking of resistance and falling in love.

OAXACA, MEXICO

VOLUME 05

ILEGAL APPAREL 7

ILEGAL MEZCAL

Shop with Intention 100% of profits from the sale of Ilegal merchandise is donated to our community partners: Team Brownsville and the El Patojismo School

SHOP MERCH

Photo Credit: Herminio Torres

8

ILEGAL MEZCAL

VOLUME 05

OAXACA, MEXICO

OAXACA, MEXICO

VOLUME 05

ILEGAL MEZCAL

9

10 COCKTAIL RECIPES

ILEGAL MEZCAL

VOLUME 05

OAXACA, MEXICO

COCKTAIL RECIPES Try these bright, refreshing cocktails with Ilegal Mezcal Reposado or Añejo.

Mezcal Old Fashioned • • • •

0.5 oz maple syrup 5 dashes Angostura Orange or grapefruit peel 2 oz Ilegal Mezcal Reposado

Add all ingredients in mixing glass. Stir with ice until chilled. Serve in rocks glass over ice.

Garnish with orange or grapefruit peel.

Ilegal Sour • • • •

0.75 oz lemon juice 0.75 oz Demerara syrup 0.5 oz egg white 1.5 oz Ilegal Mezcal Reposado

Build all ingredients in a cocktail shaker.

Shake vigorously with ice. Strain into a glass and garnish with Angostura bitters.

No Sé Smash • • • • •

0.75 oz lime juice 0.75 oz orgeat simple syrup 5 berries of choice Angostura bitters 2 oz Ilegal Mezcal Joven

Put all ingredients into rocks glass. Muddle and fill with crushed ice, shake. Add 6 drops Angostura bitters.

Batched: • (1) 750 ml bottle Ilegal Mezcal • 0.6 qt lime juice • 12 qt simple syrup

MORE MEZCAL COCKTAILS TO TRY AT HOME

OAXACA, MEXICO

VOLUME 05

ARCHIVE LA CUADRA PART IIl

ILEGAL MEZCAL

ARCHIVE LA CUADRA PART III

John Rexer was the founder and co-publisher of La Cuadra Magazine, which was produced in Antigua, Guatemala from 2005-2015. The ‘Part Time’ stories were serialized in La Cuadra, and chronicled the adventures and misadventures of the years when he made a living by taking whatever job came his way.

Here are some of those stories.

Rexer is also the owner of Café No Sé in Antigua, Guatemala and Bar Ilegal in Oaxaca, Mexico. He is the founder of Ilegal Mezcal.

Part-Time, Part III – A Foot Fetish Fandango A Cinderella Story or Rats, Rats, Rats! (Part One)

By John Rexer January 2, 2011 In the last several issues of La Cuadra, our founder and copublisher has been taking readers through some of the odder jobs that he’s held over the course of his life. This one, entitled Part-Time, Part III (Part One), which we first heard over a bottle of mezcal at Café No Sé is too long for our standard format – thus the Part One part. It will be serialized over the next few issues. Trust us, it’ll be worth the wait.

The tiny room I lived in, in the large Soho loft, was like something out of Being John Malcovitch. It had been haphazardly pieced together by previous tenants years ago who must have been a family of traveling gnomes with gyroscopic bodies. There were no right angles; in fact there were only very wrong angles.

Nothing fit.

I was trapped in a trapezoid and rooming in a rhombus; I was squashed in a square seen through a prism by a man with a cataract.

But the geometrical terms make it seem like there was method behind the design. There was not.

The makeshift floor was of thin plywood and sagged and creaked over the beams.

The hundred-year-old tin ceiling dipped so low on one side that I had to crouch.

Yellowed paint flaked from it like vicious lichen, and the atomized eczema of the old, once-industrial building hovered toxically in the band of late-morning light that reluctantly pierced the grimed window panes.

It was a starving artist’s garret with none of the romance. It was more Kafka than Goethe, more Celine than Balzac.

But, hell, it was a room, the rent was paid for the month, and the rat that had just

waddled its grey belly by the door was smaller than the other two that scurried by only seconds earlier.

for fear my face might be gnawed off. I pondered these horrors. I pondered the rat that had recently come up through the toilette and . . .

It was summertime in New York and hotter than the beach in hell. We were living five floors above a place called The Gourmet Garage, which by day sold overpriced produce, cheeses, meats, and an abundance of prepared foods to both long-standing locals and the throng of professionals who had recently infested what once had been artists’ lofts, and prior to that, factories..

Then Shauna, the woman I rented my room from, yelled my name. I was wrenched from my rat reverie. I put down the classifieds which I had been futilely and faintheartedly scanning for work.

That wasn’t the only infestation. By night this very Gourmet Garage was teeming with rats. It had been this way for weeks. The entire place was one giant Habitrail with rats of all sizes crawling over the beautifully merchandised fruits and vegetables from around the world.

They licked the meat-slicer behind the counter and gnawed the chimay, brie, and camembert in the open display refrigerators. They danced and defecated on the danbo, peed on the ptarmigan, shat on the stilton and dragged their tails over the tilsit. Yellow curved teeth and pink pustulant tongues sampled all there was to sample in this giant gourmet deli.

We had informed the owners that this was taking place but they ignored us, were rude in fact, and told us it was none of our business.

Now their rat problem had become ours.

I lay there on the futon on the floor and wondered if there had been recent cases of the bubonic plague in New York. I wondered if I was breathing in dried rat feces. Surely they were living in a nest above the tin ceiling above my room. Of that there was no doubt. At night I heard them clawing against the tin. It made it difficult having female company in my little room for the night. I slept with one eye open

I WAS TRAPPED IN A TRAPEZOID. AND ROOMING IN A RHOMBUS. Shauna ran a freelance casting agency specializing in the impossible jobs, the ones where the timeframe for the job was yesterday, or the budget was paltry, or the mission preposterous. Her jobs had been keeping me alive the last six months.

I threw on some clothes, looked both ways for rats, passed through the door and bounded down the flight of uneven stairs to the open, spacious part of the loft.

“What gives?”

“We’ve got a good one,” she said. Shauna was lying on the floor. Her legs were splayed and she wore dirty, ripped dark green leggings.

In front of her was a cup of coffee, scattered Polaroid photographs, contracts, colored pencils, high-lighters, a carrot, a pack of clove cigarettes, tarot cards, a box of tampons, ten disposable cameras, and her Rolodex. This was how she worked. Desks were for common mortals. They were the ball and chain of bureaucrats. She was an artist, a producer, a fortune teller. She was Madam Sosostris, Gertrude Stein and Cecil B. Demille all rolled into one.

11

12 ARCHIVE LA CUADRA PART IIl

“Do tell,” I said.

“You’ll just love it,” she said. “It’s just the craziest. It’s a job for NIKE and Foot Locker.

“How much?” I asked.

“I can pay you $90 a day for 9 days, then we’ll see after that.”

I quickly did the calculation, ecstatic that I was going to be able to pay next month’s rent.

“Seven-hundred-and-twenty dollars,” I said.

She looked at me over her glasses. “$810, she said.

“Wow, that’s even better,” I said.

Pay attention,” she said, “because you have to start today. NIKE is doing an ad campaign with Footlocker. They’re putting huge posters in all their stores, maybe billboards too. We have to find the models for the ads.”

“I’m with you,” I said.

“There’s more,” she said, “get this, the parameters are insane. The models can’t be college athletes, or professional athletes, they must, however, be REAL athletes, excollege athletes, superior and still competing amateur athletes, former pros, beautiful bodies, captivating faces.”

She picked up the unwashed carrot from the floor and began to eat it. Then she continued, “We need men and women, white, black, Latino. We need runners, basketball players, tennis players, volleyball players.

But here’s the zinger, its pure madness.

It’s for a new line of NIKE sneakers not yet released and the prototypes have been made only in size 7 for men and size 4 for women.”

“You are kidding,” I said.

“Amy is on the way over and I have assignments for both of you.”

“Size 7 and size 4?” I said.

“Isn’t it crazy?” she said. “I mean what professional athletes have baby feet?

Imagine some 6’8” basket ball player with a size 7 foot. That’s like half the size it should be. Imagine a runner with those size feet. We’re looking for freaks.” The light in her eyes gleamed above permanently dark half circles. “This is going to be marvelous,” she said and took another bite of her carrot.

The door buzzed and Shauna raised an eyebrow, which was my cue to bound down the five flights and open the front door. I did. There stood Amy. We frequently worked together on these insane casting jobs. She was petite and though in her mid twenties she looked sixteen.

ILEGAL MEZCAL

VOLUME 05

Amy’s face was round, her hair a mass of Shirley Temple ringlets. We could have been father and daughter given how she looked. It was not until she opened her mouth that you were aware that you were in the presence of someone both much older and intellectually formidable. Her voice was rich, her words chosen the way a chef chooses his knives. She chose them for precision, for the effectiveness of the cut, the slice, the chop they could make.

She did not suffer fools gladly, and yet at the same time, this edge was paired with a romantic heart and a love for the absurd.

“This one is nuts,” I said as we were climbing the stairs.

“I’ve already spoken with Shauna,” She said.

“Only she could attract this kind of stuff.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s a treasure hunt, a quest for the anomaly, the demands of advertising in conflict with human anatomy. Can’t wait.”

We entered the loft and sat cross-legged before Shauna like disciples. She had poured us some black coffee and cut us pieces of baklava.

IMAGINE A RUNNER WITH THOSE SIZED FEET. WE’RE LOOKING FOR FREAKS. “Fuckers! Fuckers!” Shauna said. At first I thought she was talking to us.

“Tomorrow a camera crew is coming from NY 1 to video the rats in The Gourmet Garage. It’s going to be all over the news. I just got off the phone with them. I’ve fucking had it. A rat ate half our baklava. FUCKERS!” I had just popped a piece of baklava in my mouth. The honeyed sweetness turned rancid on my tongue. I swallowed some black coffee and winced.

“OK. Business time,” Shauna said. “Amy, I need you to find male runners. Go wherever male runners go and find us two or three who fit the bill. Hit sports stores, Paragon at Union Square, Modell’s downtown and in Battery Park . . . I’ll have a bigger list for you tomorrow. Take photos. You know the drill.”

“We can pay the athletes we select $3000 for the shoot. It’s going to be one to two days. August 2nd and 3rd. Get all their details: name, phone number, emergency number, address.

Make them sign a release.”

Amy sat silent, taking in her marching orders.

You could see the absurdity of it all sending an electric charge through her little body and ringlets.

“John, I want you to find female runners and male basketball players. I have specific places for you to hit. Be at Basket Ball City at the

OAXACA, MEXICO

end of Chelsea Piers by 3:00. The Knicks are looking at a Harlem street-baller who’s called Little Feet. He’s supposed to be incredible, but has really tiny feet, hence the name. Then go over to Asphalt Green on the Upper East Side to check out runners.

There is a group of female tri-athletes who train up there today.”

There was a crashing sound in the kitchen.

The garbage can had been knocked over.

We all turned our heads. A rat shot out of the kitchen and into a storage space beneath the stairs.

“We need a fucking gun,” Shauna said.

“Two.” I said. “Upstairs is crawling with them today.”

“I’ve got the rats covered,” Shauna said.

“You watch me. I’ve called the news and an exterminator; we’re getting a cat from the ASPCA. The rats are going down! NOW GO, we have 3 days to have our first cut of models. GO!” We heeded her command. To be out of the rat hotel and into the daylight of a Soho summer was a relief. We strolled north and at Houston Street we parted, but first made plans to meet later that evening and share stories of the day’s quest.

In my backpack was a clipboard, a Polaroid camera, and a badge that said the name of the production company. I had two hours to kill before I needed to be down at Basket Ball City seeing if Little Feet was one of our Cinderellas.

I cut over to 6th Ave. and caught the subway to Columbus Circle. I got out and walked up through a bustling Central Park.

I cut over to the running path around the reservoir. The sunlight was bouncing off the giant fenced-in pool of water. There were runners everywhere. I looked at my watch and noted the time.

I had not thought much about how I would approach the women runners. What did one say? “Err, excuse me, but I could not help but notice you are wonderfully athletic and have an awfully tiny foot. Might I talk to you for a moment?” No, that would not work. Or, “High, my name is John. You have small feet, right? Wanna make some money?”

No, that would not do either.

How on earth was I to do this without seeming like some sort of perverted stalker? First of all the women were moving, and secondly I had to look for the ones with the beautiful sinewy legs, zero body fat, and toothpaste smiles. Should I begin by looking down at the feet, do quick size calculation and then race my eyes up to ankle, calf, thigh, buttocks, belly, and breasts to see if the rest conformed to the specs?

OAXACA, MEXICO

VOLUME 05

Or should I do it the other way around?

And then, once I believed that someone was Miss Right, should I dash after her or wait until she had made another loop around the reservoir and head her off ?

What happened if she did not make another loop?

How was I to do this without getting maced or arrested?

I slung the production company badge around my neck and tucked in my shirt.

I took the clipboard out of the backpack and held a pen aloft in my hand so I would at least look official.

Official-what I was not sure.

Runners of every body-type and fashionfaux-pas passed. There were shirtless men with bushy-haired chests and tight shorts more out cruising than running. There were lumpy mothers in baggy sweats despite the heat with jogging-strollers and angry babies. There were visible midrifs that would have been better left covered and people wearing ankle weights, those with loping strides and those who hobbled, but with pace.

There were those who ran effortlessly and those who looked like they’d be carted off in ambulances. A few gorgeous women floated by but they were lanky-model

ILEGAL MEZCAL types. You could see they had been competitive, and their feet . . . I was certain that their feet were perfect . . . just not for this job. I wished I had a pair of sunglasses so my gawking seemed less obvious.

THEN, AS I WAS JUST ABOUT TO GIVE UP HOPE, I SAW A WOMAN WHO SEEMED DIFFERENT THAN ALL THE REST. Then, as I was just about to give up hope, I saw a woman who seemed different than all the rest. There was something about how her arms and legs worked in inverse relationship; something about how (when the right knee was driving forward the right hand was coming down and vice versa) her strength seemed to emanate from her pelvis and taut belly. She had beautiful thighs. There was coiled energy waiting to explode, but reined in. She had white sun-block on her nose like a life guard and her blonde hair was pulled back in a no-nonsense pony tail. I zoomed in on her feet. My God! Itsy-bitsy feet!

It was like fishing all day and just as you are about to go home . . .

ARCHIVE LA CUADRA PART IIl excuse me. I know this seems strange. I need to speak with you.” I was running beside her. I was wearing long pants and shoes.

My pen flew out of my hand. The paper in the clipboard flapped like the broken wing of a spastic duck. My Cinderella runner turned her head. Her arms and legs were moving like pumping pistons in a beautiful engine. She looked at me, and then must have pressed some button somewhere deep in the gorgeous engine of her body that sent her into overdrive. I had visions of an Olympian sprinting for the finish line as I was left in the dust and watched her legs kicking around the bend of the reservoir.

I caught my breath and staggered off the path to a bench and sat down. I looked at my watch. It was 2:47. Athletes are Type-A personalities and stick to training schedules, I said to myself. OK, I’d come back tomorrow at the same time. Maybe by then I could refine my approach . . . . . . To be continued.

I lost my composure and did not think.

I ran, clipboard in hand, after her. “Ahh,

Pictured: John Rexer / Photo Credit: Israel Ramos

13

14 HOW TO PLAY 1-4-24

ILEGAL MEZCAL

VOLUME 05

OAXACA, MEXICO

HOW TO PLAY 1-4-24 Goal: With six dice, obtain a 1 and 4 and get the highe st score possible with the other 4 dice, max score of 24.

Play: Six dice and two or more players is required.

Being the first player is a disadvantage so it is recommend ed that the starting player is determined by the lowest roll.

Player starts and continues clockwise.

Player begins by rolling all six dice. After each roll the player is required to keep at least one die and re-ro ll the remaining. Once a dice is kept you can no longer roll it.

A turn ends when all dice have been held.

A player must keep a 1 and a 4 or else they are disqu alified.

The remaining four dice are totaled, the maximum score for a turn is 24.

The winner is the player with the highest score.

Gambling & Bar Rules Game play is the same as above. Each round starts with everyone putting money into a pot, usually $1.

The player with the highest score wins the pot. Th ere must be one distinct winner. If there is a tie between playe rs a new pot is created between all players and a new game is started. This continues until you have one distin ct winner, that players collects the money from all pots.

BUY ILEGAL DICE

OAXACA, MEXICO

VOLUME 05

COFFEE BREAK 15

ILEGAL MEZCAL

COFFEE BREAK 1

2 4

5

3

6

7 8 9 10

11 12

13

Down 1. Mayan Saint who embodies good and evil 3. “Without rush” en Español 4. Clearly un-aged 5. A mezcal distillery, en Español 6. Experiential outpost of Café No Sé 8. This is the flowering shoot that grows from an agave 11. Horse-drawn mill that crushes the agave 13. Ours is aged 13 months 14. Ilegal’s wax is this color 15. Meaning “rested,” ours is aged 6 months 17. Our mezcal is handcrafted AKA ______

14 15 16

17 18

Across 2. Ilegal is produced from this specific type of agave 7. Nearly all mezcal is from this state 9. The first indigenous Mexican president, you can find his stamp on our bottles 10. Our global marketing HQ is in this Brooklyn neighborhood 12. Plant all mezcal is made from 16. The world famous home of Ilegal Mezcal 18. Ilegal is largely produced at this distillery

O B S Z J N X V V L T B L Y Q

U L L W G O Y Q P W A N A N B

T K X R W I V A G V H L G O E

U K E A G V C E X Z O P E M N

R E P O S A D O N E N O L I I

N G T Q O I K S S W A A I X T

L N B J M L R P N U F X R A O

E W E H K A A P T V R A A M J

V Ñ C F G D L N N W O C B Z U

A Z G A Í E N D A I K A Y J Á

O J V N K V T F E S S D B N R

M E I H N M P O H A I Y D V E

E S O N E F A C I B M T G F Z

P A L E N Q U E D U M O R B W

T N I O P N E E R G Q C R A K

13. Quiote 14. Greenpoint 17. Añejo 18. Agave 19. Reposado

Down 1. Musicians Breakfast 2. Green 3. Mal De Amor 4. Café No Sé 5. Benito Juárez

7. Artisanal 11. Smuggling 12. Maximón 15. Oaxaca 16. Joven

ABOUT

VOLUME 05

OAXACA, MEXICO

ANSWER KEY:

ILEGAL MEZCAL

Across 5. Bar Ilegal 6. Palenque 8. Sin Prisa 9. Tahona 10. Espadín

16

ILEGAL MEZCAL

HANDCRAFTED. UNTAMED. EXCEPTIONAL.

Around 2004, Ilegal’s founder John Rexer began smuggling mezcal from Oaxaca to Café No Sé, his clandestine bar and music hub in Antigua, Guatemala.

The mezcal became popular very quickly. In 2006, John created the brand Ilegal, originally just to supply the bar. On the back of each bottle of Ilegal you will find it says “Originally produced for: Café No Sé, Mezcal Bar.” Handcrafted in small batches in Oaxaca, Mexico, Ilegal Mezcal has a beautifully balanced profile, with a mouthful of agave and a hint of smoke. Our practices reflect our commitment to sustainability and biodiversity in the Oaxaca region. Commitment to quality is apparent in every step of our process, from harvest to first sip.

Ilegal Mezcal is more than a handcrafted spirit from Oaxaca, Mexico. It’s a way of living and a state of mind. It’s about shared experiences, personal freedom, spontaneity, and travel.

It’s about uniting people over a drink. It’s about connecting with the wild inside and outside of each of us. It’s about embracing the rough edges and the human element. It’s for people who prefer the texture of time-etched beauty over the gloss of processed perfection.

It’s also about standing up for what we believe is right. We are an activist brand that takes to the streets and walls to support human dignity, freedom, uninhibited creativity, and a habitable planet. We actively fundraise for causes we believe in. Our motto: Fight for positive change, kick up some dust, drink an Ilegal.

We have seen the beauty of different cultures under one roof, and the potential of creativity and individuality when encouraged and ignited by a little mezcal. Tearing down borders is part of our everyday existence. We know that we are all in this together if we are to make the future better. We wouldn’t have it any other way. We welcome those we share our values to saddle up to the bar.

Saludos, John Rexer and the Ilegal Crew

THE SPIRIT - ILEGALMEZCAL.COM/SHOP

ILEGAL JOVEN

ILEGAL REPOSADO

(Un-aged)

(Aged 4 months in ex-bourbon barrels)

Full bodied agave flavor.

Light smoke, lingering heat. Ideal for cocktails or perfect on its own.

Eucalyptus and mineral aromas compliment hints of green apple, fresh citrus, and red chiltepe.

Velvety throughout. An exceptional drinking mezcal. Caramelized pear and bitter orange on the nose.

Clove, butterscotch, and hints of vanilla on the palate.

ILEGAL AÑEJO (Aged 13 months in new American oak barrels) A gorgeous spirit rivaling the world’s finest scotches and cognacs. Rounded. Full. Rich.

Yet untamed. Maple, clove, and bitter orange aromas. Dark chocolate and sweet agave on the palate.