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Tobalá Agave: The Butterfly's Favorite

One of the key missions at Dos Cuerpos is to delve into the background of all our products. Today, we're sharing some intriguing facts about the Tobalá Agave: The Butterfly's Favorite.


Historic document that has an image of different agaves.

Some have dubbed it the monarch of mezcal, and it's likely that such a title echoed through the town of Sola de Vega in Oaxaca. This town is where the wonders of the Tobalá Agave were unveiled, making the locals there the premier producers of Tobalá mezcal. This agave takes 6-15 years to mature, but regrettably, crafting mezcal from it demands a substantial number of piñas, and due to soaring demand, the Tobalá agave is now threatened with extinction. This is further exacerbated by the fact that, unlike the Espadín agave, it doesn't propagate through offshoots but exclusively through seeds.


Truth be told, the article's title was designed to capture your attention, dear reader, and we suspect that it might not truly be the butterflies' favorite. However, it's undeniable that a butterfly could easily mistake it for a kindred plant. Visually, it's a diminutive agave, adorned with green and yellow flowers, boasting 30 to 80 leaves. Its foliage so closely mirrors butterfly wings that it was christened "papalometl" in Nahuatl, signifying butterfly agave.


Finding this agave species in the wild is no simple task, as it usually thrives alone in arid zones, rocky cliffs, and inaccessible slopes. Occasionally, it can be spotted in forests that endure harsh frost. It's precisely situated in the Balsas River basin, the Tehuacán-Cuicatlán Valley, the Mixteca regions, and the encircling mountains of Oaxaca. Perhaps this is why some affectionately refer to it as the Explorer Agave. It boasts remarkable adaptability, yet most Tobalá agaves are cultivated, particularly in Oaxaca, southern Puebla, Chiapas, and Guerrero.


The term "Tobalá" is derived from the Zapotec language and renders "The Tobalá Agave" essentially redundant. This is because "Toba" signifies agave, and "lá" corresponds to the pronoun "the." Other monikers attached to these agaves include Bilía, chato, dób–bÉ, and dua bla, papalomé, and yavi ticushi (Mixtec).


Distinguishing the various agaves labeled as Tobalá can be somewhat challenging due to the existence of three mezcal agave species sharing the names Tobalá and Papalometl, owing to their visual resemblance:


  1. Agave potatorum Zucc: This is the most prevalent, typically being the agave people refer to when discussing Tobalá. Its name originates from the Latin term "potator," signifying drinker. It's probable that the other variants are hybrids of this species, although exact proof is lacking.

  2. Agave nussaviorum García-Mend: Characterized by fewer leaves that are slightly more spread out, yet maintain a color akin to potatorum. It's found in multiple municipalities and regions within the Mixteca region of Oaxaca. Its name hails from the Mixtec language, "ñuu savi," which translates to land of clouds.

  3. Agave seemanniana Jacobi: Sporting slightly larger leaves, it thrives best in the shade and is also utilized in pulque production. It primarily resides in Oaxacan municipalities such as Tlaxiaco, Miahuatlán, Pochutla, Yautepec, and Tehuantepec. Some assert it stretches from Oaxaca and Chiapas to Nicaragua.


At Dos Cuerpos, our focus centers on tastings and distributing agave spirits and Mexican wines. Tasting serves as a reflection upon the alcohol under consideration, and within this context, these texts endeavor to stimulate ongoing contemplation. Let us know if you found this text enjoyable, if it proved helpful in any way, and should you detect any disparities, kindly apprise us.


An Urban Legend of Tobalá:


Within Dos Cuerpos exists an urban legend closely associated with this agave, and I trust that by the tale's conclusion, you'll understand why. The tale narrates that a shipwreck survivor from the southern reaches of the country arrived in the city during the scorching months of May through August, when the sun blazes and the clouds reflect its intensity. Conversations murmured about a mysterious young woman wandering through the heart of the city. She appeared pale and ailing, her skin tinged with a peculiar shade of yellow. They say this survivor flitted into view as swiftly as she dissolved, migrating from one bar to another, traversing alleys, until she alighted at Emilio Dondé number 7. The employees of the mezcal establishment or wine shop, whichever it may have been, endeavored to look after her. The girl settled down to rest, but her gaze would repel anyone daring to approach. Nonetheless, the staff managed to offer her water and a meager repast. Now, when I converse with them, they admit that they're stumped when trying to describe the woman. They attest to her being enigmatic, slight of stature, elegant, yet her eyes flitted like a butterfly's wings. Her eyes appeared either incapable or disinterested in locking onto anyone; as soon as you neared her, they'd fixate, capturing you in their hypnotic embrace, seizing your mobility. An employee from Dos Cuerpos was tardy for her shift and upon arrival observed the mysterious woman seated, with her coworkers agitated. She drew near, and the enigmatic girl addressed her. She revealed that she sought water, yet the employee explained that despite the city's foundations resting upon water, a select few in power hoarded it within subterranean vaults. This was the lone revelation shared with the other employees, yet they recollect conversations that persisted until nightfall, accompanied by mezcal and laughter. By night's end, they departed together, and with them, autumn blossomed. Months elapsed devoid of news from the employee, until one day she reemerged, taciturn, as winter relinquished its hold and spring commenced. She looked identical, save for her eyes, now adorned with a new necklace. When I initially commenced employment at DC, I'd detected the peculiarity of her eyes, yet it wasn't until this legend reached my ears that I grasped their transformation. They remained the same but were incongruent with the mysterious girl's eyes, for the butterfly in her gaze was petrified. She didn't furnish any explanation to anyone else, be it the events that unfolded or their destination. The bosses reinstated her employment, and she refused to divulge any information concerning the incident. Occasionally, in fleeting moments, I'd catch her gazing vacantly, caressing the pendant suspended from her neck, an unmoving sentinel.


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