Ever since I made my first trip to Oaxaca, six years ago, I've been enamored with mezcal, the distilled counterpart to tequila whose most recognizable asset is its smoky aftertaste. I once sat at the bar with a convoy of cowboys at the Cowgirl Hall of Fame in Santa Fe for a mere eight hours drinking nothing but mezcal, which rendered me too drunk to stumble back to my hotel. That wasn't the case the other night, though, when I sensibly sipped the mezcal cocktail in the above snap, a simultaneously smoky and spicy concoction that I was determined to savor.
Can you guess where I'm drinking?
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