On the eve of hiking Guatemala’s third highest peak, Acatenango, I found myself at a bar asking some backpackers for advice. The group laughed, their advice was not to go to the bar the night before a hike, but one woman earnestly warned, “Bring a hat and wear layers. It’s cold up there.”
I had chosen, like many backpackers, to forgo a comfortable night in one of Antigua’s affordable hostels to sleep on the side of this nearby volcano. The attraction is not so much the hike up the black, igneous slopes, but the view. At night, you can look across the valley at Volcán de Fuego, an active volcano, and watch glowing, red lava spew into the black Guatemalan sky. Fireworks.
Twenty-four hours later, I am huddled around a fire with five other backpackers shivering with regret at not having packed more clothes, warmer clothes, anything to keep my blood hot through the night. The wind whips across the tree-bare slope drowning out conversation as we glance from our sputtering campfire over to the distant hell of Fuego’s bursting red peak. Echoes of eruptions reverberate across the valley like a thunderous belly laugh—Fuego mocking the gringo for his stupidity.
One of my fellow hikers, an Austrian, breaks the ice. He holds a bottle the size of his hand. We recognize it immediately. Quetzalteca.
Anyone who has traveled in Guatemala knows Quetzalteca. It is ubiquitous, cheap, and strong. With a traditionally dressed indigenous woman welcoming you on its logo, Quetzalteca acts as Guatemala’s unofficial national drink.
The largest distillery in Guatemala (owner of Zacapa and Botran Rum for those familiar with Guatemalan rums) distills Quetzalteca from cane sugar and bottles it at 36 ABV. In Latin America, this proof distinguishes Quetzalteca as aguardiente, a general term in Spanish for liquor distilled from fruit or cane sugar, which translates as agua-water and ardiente-burning. At less than 2 USD a bottle, my backpacker’s budget had familiarized me with the sharp, sweet burning and the head-swimming warmth that makes Quetzalteca famous.
We pass the bottle around the fire, swigging happily and reveling in the burning sensation that the liquor gives the throat. Soon, we are laughing at the wind and our bodies warm up to the idea of sleeping on the side of this volcano. We look from the fiery peak of Fuego to the clear bottle glimmering red in our campfire. Between the six of us, we finish two little bottles. I turn my back to the eruptions of Fuego. My head pulsating from aguardiente, fire water, I crawl into my tent.
If you ever hike Acatenango, or any mountain in Guatemala, pack a hat—and a little bottle of Quetzalteca.
In both Colima and Jalisco, locals mix raw milk from goats and cows with liquor, often tequila. The drink is commonly called leche caliente, but also carries a variety of names inspired by birds. It is strictly served at breakfast, when ranchers are milking their cows for the day. It is not meant to get you drunk, but it can cure a hangover. Just don’t drink too much raw milk. You might get sick.
A small town outside of the city of Colima has been dubbed a Pueblo Mágico by the Mexican Secretariat of Tourism. Part of the town’s magic stems from the culinary delights that it is known for, including alcoholic punch. Around town, over 30 shops sell homemade liqueurs flavored with fruits and nuts with bases of tequila, mezcal, whiskey, and rum. But how did this small town converge on one craft?
In the world of fine wine and in the world of herbal medicine there exists a drink called ratafia. Local versions of ratafia can vary, but it is generally an infusion of fruits and sugar into brandy. Today, ratafias are made in France and Spain. Americans, particularly folks in Louisiana, also made their own version of the infusion.
Heard of wood alcohol? Don’t drink it. Wood alcohol, or methanol, is poisonous. It is produced by heating wood in a sealed container until it breaks down, releasing trace amounts of methanol. This process, destructive distillation, has been practiced since ancient times. The last 100 years, however, have seen the rise of industrial production of methanol and an increase in methanol poisonings.
