We’ve finally been shamed into making a Margarita. If you read this blog, you’ll no doubt recall my ramblings on the subject, noting that most Margaritas in the wild are utterly irredeemable. This is, however, not the Margarita’s fault. In an effort to garner market share and a place in the well at bars all over the world, Tequila marketed itself as an everyday drinker type of spirit - cheaper, homogenous, and not particularly nuanced. This is quite a different type of spirit than what Tequila began as and can be—subtle, delicate, and with the potential for nuanced sipping on par with the best variety of spirits in the world.

This take on Tequila is easy to spot. Go to a bar that serves reasonably good drinks, and you’ll hear the practiced and quick refrain, “I don’t like Tequila, I like Mezcal.” This is because Mezcal has retained its rustic, nuanced orientation, built for the imbiber to experience its intricacies rather than as a vehicle for delivering salt and lime with some potent booze to cut through standard Tex-Mex or be chased by a Dos Equis. You don’t have to take it from me. Prominent bartenders also agree that the Margarita is the most overrated Tequila cocktail, and that Tequila’s close association with the Margarita stunts other uses that highlight the quality and uniqueness of Tequila (see The Matador).

This is quite the shame. So, let me buck the trend and say that I like Tequila better than Mezcal. I particularly like its herbaceous, grassy notes. Tequila is from similar latitudes as rum, and it is reminiscent to me of Rhum Agricole (more on this below). And further, as a Scotch guy, I don’t think the smoke in Mezcal works as well in agave as it does in barley. To me, it comes off as thinner-tasting, which is an odd experience given what we usually associate with smokiness and smoky flavors. Now that I’ve given a little back, let’s find out what different orange liqueurs do in a Margarita on the way to building the Coconut Margarita.

Orange Liqueur. For this experience, I used four orange liqueurs. Two of these, Cointreau and Grand Marnier, represent the typical split among orange liqueurs. Cointreau is a Triple Sec and represents the bright, fresh, dry orange flavors of that end of the spectrum. These are often based on neutral spirits. Cointreau, I think, is based on beet sugar distillate and then flavored with bitter orange peel. Grand Marnier represents the opposite end of this spectrum occupied by Orange Curaçao. These are typically made with a base of French Cognac or brandy and give a drink a deep, rich, more full-bodied orange flavor. Most of the time, I opt for Orange Curaçao in my drinks because I prefer deep, rich flavors. Admittedly, I am a man of extremes. However, out of the gate, I expected the Triple Sec to be on point in a Margarita because its bright orange, dry, fresh flavors would mesh with the grassy, citrusy, herbaceous agave notes in Tequila.

The third orange liqueur I used was Solerno—a blood orange liqueur. Solerno is a Triple Sec from three distillations: Sicilian blood orange flesh, blood orange peels and zest, and then lemon peels. Given this, it sits quite apart from either a Triple Sec like Cointreau or an Orange Curaçao. The fourth orange liqueur I used, Clement Creole Shrub, is not as common. It is based on an Agricole from Martinique. The rum base, made from fresh cane juice, has pronounced grassy, herbaceous, vegetal, and spicy notes. My thinking was that this would mesh well with similar flavor notes in Tequila while adding some funky Caribbean spice you don’t get in Triple Sec or Orange Curaçao. 

So, what did I do here? I made eight (yes, eight) Margaritas spec’d the following way:

I made this recipe twice—once for unwashed Tequila and once for the Coconut fat-washed Tequila. I used Glencairn glasses to get a sense of the aromatics as well as the flavor. My academic friends will no doubt complain that this was not a “blinded” trial. I can only say in my defense that my extensive prowess with libations and my dedication to “letting the data speak” overwhelm any inclination to bias what I say here. And remember, we are not sponsored by anyone (yet?). Note that I did not do all of this in one day. This taxes the senses even if you’re a professional like myself. At the Appalachian Speakeasy, our dedication to your imbibing experience knows no bounds.

So which orange liqueur is best? In drinks as in life, it sort of depends. First, all of these made very good, very different Margaritas. My recommendations here will thus vary depending on your goals and flavor preferences. Let’s start with the unwashed tequila (a.k.a., a plain Margarita). With a regular Margarita, Cointreau gives the classic bright, fresh orange note, balancing the lime. It’s dry, orange-y, and with fresh lime, it’s bracing, refreshing even. The Grand Marnier is less aromatic but much richer in flavor depth. You get barrel notes, and the Cognac base comes through. Were I recommending one of these for an average weekday Margarita, it would be the Grand Marnier. All over the internet, Solerno is touted as a great choice for a blood orange Margarita. It is that in spades. It gives a deep, intense blood orange flavor to the Margarita that pushes even the lime to the back. I like it, but you need to really like blood orange, because it’s going to be at the forefront of the drink. It had a great, fresh blood-orange aroma profile as well. Finally, the Creole Shrub had that characteristic grassy, vegetal, herbal aroma profile and flavor that one gets with a Rhum Agricole. The Agricole really nudges the tequila out of the way, though, so you need to be big on the Agricole flavor profile.

So, for a normal Margarita, my personal favorite is the Creole Shrub. But I really like Rhum Agricole and how it doubles down on those grassy flavor and aroma profiles you get in Tequila Blanco. Were I recommending a spec, it would be Grand Marnier - it was the least aromatic, but had by far the most depth of flavor. It also balanced the lime better than most of the others, so that the drink wasn’t a smack in the face with lime or orange liqueur.

The flavor and aroma notes were similar for the coconut fat-washed Tequila. So, you might be wondering why my spec in the picture above is with Cointreau. Well, Cointreau was unique in allowing the coconut fat-wash aromas and flavor to come through and take their place at the table. So, if you are building a Margarita spec that contains other subtle flavor profiles (e.g., coconut, strawberry, peach, etc.), your drink will greatly benefit from Cointreau’s ability to give you bright, fresh orange without getting in the way or swamping out those other subtler flavors. The same is true, I imagine, for Tequilas with more delicate flavor profiles. So, I’d recommend the following based on what I tasted:

Given my aims here for a Coconut Margarita that retains subtle coconut aromas and a silky, discernible texture from the fat-washing, this was an easy choice: Cointreau. If you can’t lay your hands on Cointreau, I would imagine other Triple Secs would fit the bill.

Coconut Fat-Washed Tequila. If using a sous vide, combine the Tequila and coconut oil in a bag and seal it. Place it in the sous vide at 130–140°F (51–60°C) for four hours. Periodically, massage the bag to work the coconut oil in. Then remove from the sous vide and cool to room temperature. Place the bag in the freezer to solidify the coconut oil. I usually just do this overnight. Then strain the washed Tequila through a damp coffee filter into a bottle. Walla! Coconut fat-washed Tequila. It’ll have a smooth, silky mouthfeel with a nice coconut background flavor note. 

You can also do this without a sous vide. Melt the coconut oil and combine it with the Tequila in a Mason Jar. You might need to use a warm-water bath to gently keep the coconut oil melted every so often, but it’ll still do a great job. Let this mingle for a couple of days, freeze and strain as above, and you’ll arrive at the same terminus. You could certainly wash an entire bottle of Tequila, just adjust the ratios accordingly. This recipe yields about a cup of coconut fat-washed Tequila — enough for 4 servings at 3 ounces each or 3 servings at 4 ounces each. Or, obviously, 2 servings at 6 ounces each if you are a particular type of person.

Coconut Margarita. Get out a small saucer and fill it with the garnish ingredients; spread them evenly over the saucer. Take one lime and moisten the rim of the glass. Then press the rim into the saucer and rotate back and forth. You’ll now have the garnish on the rim. Set the glass in the freezer to chill thoroughly. This is entirely the same process as for sugared rims, see The Golden Bulb, Sidecar, and Scottish Sandie.

When you Google, and we all know you will, several recipes for Lime Salt are based on the notion that you’re keeping it for a long period. They’ll have you heat it up in the oven. For cocktails, this is not helpful. Just zest your lime into the salt to your taste and mix it in, then spread it evenly for rimming the glass. This assures that the lime on the rim is fresh and bright green, not brown and hard from being in the oven. If you want to save it for culinary endeavors afterward, go ahead and follow those directives. With lime, fresh is always better in the cocktail world. 

This is a shaken cocktail. Combine the remaining ingredients in one half of a shaker tin. Load the other half with ice and shake for a good 12–17 count, until thoroughly chilled. You’ll be able to tell from the penetrating chill on the outside of the tin. Retrieve your glass and fine-strain it (i.e., double-strain it). Enjoy!

Glass: Margarita, Coupe, or Nick and Nora 

For this drink, I used Teremana Small Batch Tequila — it’s apparently Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson’s Tequila. Honestly, I have no idea where it ranks among Tequilas, though they contest that it’s “premium.” At my local liquor store, it wasn’t bottom- or top-shelf and was reasonably priced, so there you have it. Could you use a Reposado here? Yes, but while the vanilla, toffee, and baking-spice notes of a Reposado pair well with the coconut flavors here, they are definitely out of place in a Margarita. The Blanco gives the Margarita the bright, crisp, herbal, agave-forward character that, in my mind, the drink demands. That character works well with the Triple Sec, which adds bright, crisp, fresh orange flavors and is much drier than a Curaçao. 

If you search around for Coconut Margaritas, you’ll find lots of recipes using Cream of Coconut (e.g., Coco Lopez). That drink comes out pallid, sweeter, and richer in texture. Here, I wanted that silky character, but without the sweetness and richness. The washing gives us that and keeps the drink lighter on the tongue. You certainly don’t NEED the agave syrup, but it’s a great touch with the agave spirit in the recipe. If you don’t have agave syrup, simple syrup will do.

There is no need to wash the Blanco with the coconut fat. Not doing so gives you a normal Margarita. I should say here that there’s nothing fancy about the recipe above. Its success, and yours should you choose to accept your mission, is FRESH lime juice and balance. The reason most Margaritas are terrible is that the juice is not fresh, and the lime perched on the rim of your glass is brown and was prepped 5 days ago. Beyond that, Margaritas in the wild are usually puckeringly sour or sickeningly sweet. It is the lime and the lack of balance, not the recipe for a Margarita, that often make the Margarita the worst ambassador for Tequila.

Let me know in the comments who serves up your favorite Margarita and what you think is great about it. See you in the Appalachian Speakeasy next week.

This blog is, as ever, an opinionated take on drinks.