Several decades ago, I was introduced to the flavor “Mexican Vanilla.”
That singular image spoke to me on several levels. The “Clear and Pure” label, and the liqueur itself, sparkling and crystal-like, amber in color, triple-filtered, and yet, there’s still that magic in Mexican Vanilla.
Former lover went by that sobriquet, too. She was – still is – half Irish, half Mexican. All woman. Fiery and passionate, sign withheld by request.
The flavor, what I first noticed, was the “Mexican-Vanilla” ice cream was stronger and slightly more pungent, due to the origin of the vanilla beans. In a time when the world is in upheaval, there are still simple pleasures that I associate with a specific place.
Once, while in London, really twice now, at least, I ran into stuff labeled “Madagascar Vanilla.” Similar to Mexican Vanilla, but not quite as potent. Clearly a lot more expensive. That product, by the time it made to the UK, it was refined and rarified. Missing that “Mexican” element.
The market square in San Antonio, several vendors have the original “Mexican Vanilla,” and I used to assume it was the one with the rooster. Little red cock was part of the label. Use it in everything, from cooking to some health drinks. Not much of use in anything else, although, even in my New Age circles, a spritz bottle with a watered down vanilla spray is a good form of metaphysical protection. I wouldn’t waste good seasoning on something mundane like that. Heard about used as a house blessing, too.
The last time I shopped for a bottle, I found the new, new to me anyway, brand shown in the picture. Besides the delightful amber shade, the russet tone of triple filtered for purity, I liked it because it was specifically different. Mexican Vanilla is usually much darker, like a stout ale.
Photo, frames, filters by iPhone. Market Square, San Antonio, TX.