MESSAGE BOARDS Love margaritas? Belly up to the message board and tell us about your favorites BOB'S FAVORITE AT-HOME MARGARITA Salt on the rim of a margarita glass should be on the outside of the rim only, so it doesn't fall into the drink. Coat the rims by dipping a finger in the lime juice and wetting only the outer rims with it. Then roll the wet rims in a dish of salt. 3 ounces Cuervo Especial tequila 1 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice 1 ounce Hiram Walker triple sec Kosher salt Small ice cubes or cracked (not crushed) ice Dip finger in lime juice and use it to wet outside rims of 2 martini glasses. Roll rims in salt, leaving deposit on outside edges. Place glasses in freezer until ready to mix drinks. Measure liquid ingredients into cocktail shaker. Add ice and shake vigorously for 15 seconds. Strain into chilled glasses. Makes 2 margaritas. WHAT IS TEQUILA? Any starch or sugar can be fermented to produce alcohol. Fruits and grains are most often used, but tequila is made from the cooked, starchy heart of the blue agave plant, known in Mexico as maguey. It is technically not a cactus, but it looks like one. The plant's juice is fermented and double-distilled. The production of tequila is strictly regulated by the Mexican government. It must be made from at least 51 percent blue agave juice from plants grown in one of four Mexican states. (Jose Cuervo's are grown near the village of Tequila.) Super-premium tequilas, distilled from 100 percent blue agave juice, must be bottled in Mexico; others may be shipped in bulk and bottled in the United States. There is never a "worm" (actually, a larva) in a tequila bottle. That's mescal, made from various agave species by a single distillation and not widely exported. The insects live on the agave plant and supposedly testify to the authenticity of the product. They're also good roasted.

August 18, 1999
Web posted at: 2:55 p.m. EDT (1855 GMT)

By Robert L. Wolke
Los Angeles Times Syndicate

SAN ANTONIO, Texas (Los Angeles Times Syndicate) -- In Spanish, a margarita is a daisy. But when summer comes and daisies begin to bloom, a different kind of margarita blossoms on lawns and patios throughout the land -- a fruity nectar that cools the air and warms the heart: the margarita in a glass.

A deceptively simple-sounding mixture of tequila, lime juice and orange liqueur, the liquid margarita crossed the border from Mexico in the 1940s and conquered the United States, where variations on the basic recipe -- including strawberry, peach, mango, passion fruit and everything but Fruit-of-the-Loom margaritas -- can be found in bars from coaster to coaster. It's as if the original concept of the drink became diluted as it crossed the Rio Grande.

Nowhere on this side of the border can one find a higher regard for the authentic margarita, and indeed for all things Mexican, than in San Antonio, Texas, where the Mexican and American cultures have blended as smoothly as tequila and triple sec. On a recent trip to the home of the Alamo, I decided to track down the best margarita in town.

Now when it comes to martinis, I'm a puritanical snob. Give me good gin with a touch of vermouth and nothing else, thank you. None of those chocolate and raspberry abominations that they perpetrate in so-called martini bars. I approached my margarita quest with the same degree of closed-minded conservatism, expecting that the best margarita would be made of nothing but the choicest tequila, the freshest hand-squeezed lime juice and the finest, top-shelf orange liqueur.

I could almost name the brands before I got off the plane: Cuervo 1800 Anejo tequila and Grand Marnier Liqueur. All I expected to find were variations in the proportions: three parts tequila to two parts lime juice and one part liqueur (the usual bartender's-guide recipe) or three to one to one, or somewhere in between. My Golden Fleece margarita would be shaken with small ice cubes, not cracked ice, and served straight up with a salted rim, not, heaven forbid, frozen.

Boy, was I in for some surprises.

I made the rounds of San Antonio's most celebrated bars, sampling two or three variations in each. (Well, someone had to do it.) Every bar had at least three kinds of margaritas on the menu, with names like The Original, La Margarita Magnifica, the Cactus Viper, Jose's Favorite and even Steve's Favorite. I was determined to find Bob's Favorite.

If I can interpret my increasingly illegible notes, here's what I learned.

The tequila: The character of a margarita is determined most of all by the character of the tequila, and tequila comes in dozens of varieties. Some of the more popular brands are Centinela, Jose Cuervo, El Tesoro, Herradura, Patron and Sauza. Most distilleries produce several versions of the four main styles: white or silver, which is colorless and straight from the still; gold, which is colored with caramel but not aged; reposado, or "rested" in oak barrels for two to 12 months; and anejo, which is aged for more than a year.

Surprise No. 1: I expected that the mellower and more expensive anejos would make the best margaritas, but I found their oakiness to be too harsh for what is basically a fruity drink. Moreover, a cool margarita is most enticing when it is crystal clear, untinged by the tannins in aged liquors.

While many menus boast "fresh lime juice," I found that the bartenders may actually use a lime, lemon-lime or even lemon-orange-lime sweet-and-sour mix, made up in bulk from the fruit juices and simple syrup. Initially disappointed, I realized that a bartender can't take the time to squeeze a lime for every one of hundreds of margaritas made on a busy night. The menus aren't really lying, I suppose, because the lime juice had indeed been "freshly squeezed" -- at one time.

Surprise No. 2: Some of the sweet-and-sour mixes were really quite good and fresh-tasting. At home, however, I'll continue to squeeze my own lime juice.

The liqueur: In my opinion, the queens of orange-flavored liqueurs, Grand Marnier and Cointreau, do not create the best margaritas. Made as they are from fine brandy and dried orange peel, they deserve to be sipped neat, rather than being insulted with fruit juice. If their proportions in a margarita aren't carefully controlled, their bitterness and high alcohol content (80 proof) can overwhelm the flavor of the tequila, which is of course what margaritas are all about. Lower-alcohol (30 to 40 proof), colorless curacaos and the refined curacaos known as triple secs seem to perform the orange flavor duties best.

Surprise No. 3: I preferred margaritas made with premium triple secs to those made with either Cointreau or Grand Marnier, even though it is widely claimed that Cointreau was the liqueur of the original margarita.

The ice and salt: Some people like salt around the rim of the glass; some don't. I do. A hit of salt on the tongue contrasts with the liqueur's sweetness and piques the tequila's unique flavor. The rim is dampened by rubbing it with a wedge of lime and is then dipped into a dish of kosher salt, which clings better and dissolves less easily than granulated salt.

And then there's the big question of frozen or straight up. An n"up" margarita is made by vigorously shaking the ingredients with ice -- either tiny cubes or coarsely cracked, but never big cubes or crushed -- and straining into a chilled glass. Frozen margaritas are blended to a slush with crushed ice.

Surprise No. 4: Although, as expected, I preferred the less-diluted flavors of the straight-ups, some frozen margaritas, which I had previously disparaged as Sno-cones or Slurpees, were surprisingly good, especially in the fruitier variations. Best of all were the prickly pear cactus fruit margaritas containing the brilliantly colored pureed fruit. When one cactus (tequila's agave) meets another (the prickly pear), they envelop your taste buds in a warm Mexican abrazo (embrace).

The proportions: There are so many kinds of tequilas, orange liqueurs and citrus sweet-and-sour mixes that no ratio of ingredients can possible be quoted as "correct." It's a case of every margarita for herself. Either experiment at home with various brands and combinations or search the bars as I did, until you meet your Margarita.

And what was Bob's Favorite? There were four finalists: "The Traditional" and "Steve's Favorite" at La Fonda, the"Sauza Conmemorativo" (CQ) at the Canyon Cafe, and the overall winner for best combination of flavor and beauty -- may I have the envelope, please? -- the forthrightly named Prickly Pear Margarita at the Zuni Grill.

I stayed away from one well-known San Antonio restaurant where, according to my bartender confidants, they spike the margaritas with extra grain alcohol. And I politely declined the offer of a 40-ounce (more than a quart!) margarita at Polo's Restaurant in the Fairmount Hotel.

After all, I had work to do.

Canyon Cafe, San Antonio. Tel. (210) 821-3738.

La Fonda, San Antonio. Tel. (210) 733-0621. Open Monday through Saturday for lunch and dinner.

Zuni Grill, San Antonio. Tel. (210) 227-0864. Open daily.

Copyright © 1999, Robert L. Wolke
Distributed by Los Angeles Times Syndicate

(Robert L. Wolke is professor emeritus of chemistry at the University of Pittsburgh and the author of "What Einstein Didn't Know -- Scientific Answers to Everyday Questions.")

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