Page 10 of Body Shot

“Alcohol,” Brian says. “I taste alcohol.”

The laughter includes our three tequila hosts.

“Yeah,” Beck says. “I was once tasting tequila with a guy who went on about the ‘hints of pamplemousse, Meyer lemon, and Spanish oak.’ He was full of shit. No need to be a pretentious douchebag about it—just say what you really taste . . . and if it’s simply alcohol, so be it. Everyone’s palate is different. But maybe we’ll help educate your palate a bit tonight.”

“I feel heat,” I say. “Though it doesn’t last long.”

“That’s right,” Beck agrees. “Heat is very true. And don’t worry . . . as we get into some of the more complex tequilas you’ll probably taste more. Try keeping some in your mouth . . . breathe through your mouth with it a little open if you can . . . then swallow and experience the back-end notes.”

Marco speaks up. “Before we move on to the reposado, we have to cleanse our palate. This is sangrita.” He pours red liquid into more glasses. “Tomato juice with a little lime and a dash of tabasco. If you don’t care for it, you can swish some water around in your mouth also.”

I sip my tomato juice cocktail, which tastes basically like a virgin Bloody Mary, and prepare for the next tequila.

“We’ll move on to one of our reposado tequilas now,” Marco says. He sets a bottle onto the long bar. “A reposado tequila is aged in wood barrels—usually oak—or storage tanks for two to eleven months. It then takes on a more golden color, and the taste becomes a good balance between the agave and wood flavors. First we’ll taste Sauza Hornitas.” He and Beck pour more samples and we repeat the process.

Beck slides one across the bar to me with a smile. “Here you go, gorgeous.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. He’s a shameless flirt.

This time people identify aromas of caramel, oak, agave, and fruit.

“Analyzing the organoleptic components of this is interesting,” I say to Carrie. I catch Beck’s raised eyebrow at my comment. “If you analyzed tequila with gas chromatography, I wonder how many odorants you could identify.”

Carrie groans. “Hayden! Don’t overanalyze it. You always do that.”

I frown and sip my tequila. “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

“You need to enjoy the sensory aspects of the tequila,” Beck puts in.

“Right,” Carrie agrees. “And to have fun. Remember? This is not work.”

I sigh. “Fine.” I sip again. “It’s smoother than the last one. Still warm. Smoky.”

After some discussion, we taste another reposado, then on to an añejo tequila, the first sample Don Julio. “This isn’t the most expensive tequila on our menu,” Beck notes. “Although Don Julio 1942 is one of our pricier ones. We’re just starting this tequila tasting night and if it’s popular enough to continue, we’ll offer different tequilas each week. But this is quite a nice añejo tequila.”

“Vanilla,” I remark as I take a small sniff. “And toffee. I think.”

Beck winks at me. “Very good.”

Heat slides down through me, and it’s not from the Don Julio. I focus on the appearance, noting that it’s definitely more viscous than the last two we tasted. Then I taste it. Smooth heat rolls over my tongue and down my throat. “Wow. What a difference.”

“Ugh.” Carrie shakes her head. “I can’t handle this.”

I grin at my friend. “Come on. Try it again. Savor it.”

“It sounds as if you actually like it.”

“I actually do.” I’m as surprised as anyone. I make a couple of notes on the small note pad we’ve each been given, careful to ensure I have the name of each tequila correct.

Carrie frowns at me. “Oh no. I’ve created a monster. A tequila monster.”

I laugh, catching Beck’s eye as I do. The startled look on his face and the way he stares at me takes me aback. Do I have something stuck in my teeth?

I swallow a little more of my sample. “Not sure I could drink a lot of this, but I do quite like it.”

“Good girl,” Beck says approvingly, and the warm focus of his dark eyes on me and his appealing smile make my girl parts squeeze. I find myself smiling back at him.

Oh God. I must be drunk.

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