Welcome back to FTW’s Beverage of the Week series. Here, we mostly chronicle and review beers, but happily expand that scope to any beverage (or food) that pairs well with sports. Yes, even cookie dough whiskey.
My experience with tequila as a shot ruined it for me through my formative drinking years. Still, few spirits quite thrive 1.5 ounces at a time like Mexico most famous export. Only bourbon comes close.
Shots are no place for subtlety. As a result, we’ve seen an influx in flavored versions of these liquors. They’re infused with fruits or spices or, somehow, peanut butter or barbeque sauce. This is all an effort to leave a distinct impression once chilled down and slugged in a second or less.
That brought me to Mango Shotta (don’t worry, Chica-Chida peanut butter tequila, your time here is coming soon). The Sazerac-backed liqueur makes sense at face value; a tropical spirit blended with tropical flavors — in this case, tequila with mango and jalapeno peppers.
I’m generally a big fan of sweet and spicy drinks (my local brewery had a very good chocolate habanero stout before the whole place took a turn. I won’t name names, but if you’re in Wisconsin you can probably make a reasonable guess). But there’s a fine line that needs to be walked for the whole thing to work.
Does Mango Shotta balance on that razor’s edge? Or will it be too sweet, too spicy or too messy to stand out? Let’s pour a glass and find out.
This smells … interesting. I brought it up to my nose and literally said “oooh.” There’s fruit and spice, like a fresh cut jalapeno dropped into concentrated juice. Underneath that spice is more spice, as the agave of the tequila lingers even at 52 proof.
“I gotta be honest, that tastes like my college frat,” the friend I poured a fellow shot for. He’s not wrong. There’s a lot going on here; some creamy mango, then spice. A few different levels that linger long after it clears your lips. It’s a little thick and sticky, which makes it at least a little off-putting.
The aftertaste is syrupy sweet, battling it out with the capsaicin of the pepper inside. It’s a nice idea, but it’s a bit too sloppy for my liking. There’s a lot of “this is what I had on hand to make this bottle of Pepe Lopez more tolerable” in the process.
Maybe a little ice will thin it out and make it better. Let’s see.
OK, this smells better up front. The spice is a little more muted, which gives off less of a “I’m drinking pepper spray” vibe.
Still, the first sip is more jalapeno than mango. The sweetness lingers, but it’s stuck in a battle with that heat. The good news is you’re not getting any bad tequila burn here. The bad news is you’re getting a different heat and it’s a little weird.
I’m happy to give Mango Shotta credit for its originality. It’s nothing I’ve seen before in the bottle space. But it’s not for me. Too thick, too sticky, too schizophrenic in its execution. It’s not undrinkable, and it might be your jam. But this bottle’s gonna get brought to a tailgate and conveniently forgotten afterward.
This is a pass/fail mechanism where I compare whatever I’m drinking to my baseline cheap beer. That’s the standby from the land of sky-blue waters, Hamm’s. So the question to answer is: on a typical day, would I drink Mango Shotta over a cold can of Hamm’s?
No thanks. I might do a chilled shot if everyone else is, but without peer pressure I’ll stick to my beer.
