A Spirit with Smoke in Its Blood
 

In the heartlands of Oaxaca, the land remembers. Every fire lit, every agave pulled from stone. Every song sung and silenced. Se Busca ANejo doesn't just honour that history - it walks it, barefoot, through smoke and shadow. This is not a bottle built to please the crowd. It's built to honour the women who took up arms when the revolution knocked and no one else answered. "Se Busca" - Wanted. Not lost. Not forgotten.

This mezcal is a quiet threat - not because it roars, but because it waits.

Crafted from 100% Espadin, then aged 18 months in French oak, it holds fire and time in perfect tension. The ageing doesn't smooth the mezcal into something polite. It gives it weight. Depth. A kind of stillness you don't get from youth. The smoke lingers low and dark, more embers than flame. It doesn't bite - it circles. Opens slow.

On the nose: charred agave, black pepper, and something like sun-dried cacao ground into stone. There's dried fruit here too - fig skin, orange oil, the whisper of old molasses. Then comes the sip - full-bodied, but not heavy. Think butterscotch slicked with ash. Vanilla, cinnamon, a flicker of clove. A texture like oil smoked over mesquite. And beneath it all, that deep, earthy pulse that only mezcal made with purpose ever carries.

The finish doesn't fade. It lingers like a memory you didn't ask for - warm, dry, faintly sweet, with a touch of pepper that sharpens at the edges. It leaves the glass like a promise. Or a warning.

This is a mezcal for sitting still. For slow pours and even slower conversation. Pair it with bitter chocolate, grilled meat, or nothing at all. Don't overthink it. Just listen. It doesn't need your attention. But it will have it.

Se Busca Anejo is not a trend. Not a product. It's a portrait - framed in oak and fire - of everything that made mezcal more than a drink. It's a spirit born from women who refused silence, and it carries that resistance with every sip.