Vince Compagnone

The only substantial savings are to be had in spirits produced and bottled in Mexico.

The first Mexico stories I ever heard were as a result of being dispatched to San Diego to undergo the trials and errors of bootcamp. In the first few days, even before they slipped us into uniforms, we were bombarded by a series of indoctrination lectures about the dos and don’ts of our new life. Sandwiched between a lesson in the uses and abuses of soap and an elucidation of the morale-harming nature of shipboard homosexuality, was an hour-long admonition to stay the hell out of Mexico. To the sea-salted old chief, Mexico, and Tijuana in particular, was good for only two things, drinking and fighting; and he had numerous anecdotes (and probably scars) to illustrate his point. Of course I only half-believed what he said about the infamous city, but after several Mexican forays of my own it became apparent that the chief was right about one thing: there’s a lot of booze down there.

If you think about all the Mexico stories you’ve ever heard or told, you’ll probably notice that liquor figures into most of them. It is a well-documented fact that something in the gringo’s code of behavior goes awry when his feet hit the chuck-holed streets of Tijuana. He will eat and drink his way through town and paycheck and then try to punch out the friendly cabbie who gives him a free lift back to the border at dawn. Untold numbers of us have been returning with hooch stashed in our blood or in our car trunks for years, but now we can bring it back in the bottle, in the front seat, legally, thanks to the passage of Senate bill 1110 last September. Since we no longer have to drink it all while we’re down there, maybe we can also start upgrading our image in the eyes of the Mexicans.

The new liquor law went into effect January 1, and consequently the perennial forty-gallon trash can full of empty bottles in the secondary search area at the border has become a thing of the past. Customs officials admit they have no method of making sure the occasional swigger doesn’t bring back more than one quart per month, the limit set by the new law, but since inspectors are trained face-readers you may just be asked outright. No kidding. You’re on your honor.

Bills of this kind surfaced many times in Sacramento’s legislative sea; but with heavy opposition from the liquor industry, none had ever reached shore. Even out-of-state residents had their privilege to bring back a bottle revoked in September, 1974. The U.S. liquor industry was and is worried about losing money, but a close look at Mexican liquor prices has to make you wonder why the lobbyists bothered with all those three-martini lunches.

Generally speaking, the only substantial savings are to be had in spirits produced and bottled in Mexico — primarily tequila, rum, wine, or Kahlua. Import duties and transportation costs prohibit Mexican liquor dealers from grossly underselling the American in brands distilled in the States or in Europe. All of Baja’s European liqueurs must come in through New York, and retail prices reflect shipping costs to Los Angeles and down to the border.

The lists that follow were compiled in San Diego and Tijuana. The U.S. prices can be found in any liquor store; they are controlled by law and therefore vary only slightly. The Mexican prices are from the Supermercado de Licores (Supermarket of Liquor), 3400 Fiesta Boulevard, across the street from the golf course on the way to the racetrack. This is where the overall cheapest prices will be found along with the best selection, including Rosarito and Ensenada.

Even though they’re not the place to buy your whoopee water, I’m a sucker for Mexican liquor stores. I love the old guy sitting behind the broken-down counter, his digital pocket calculator in easy reach. Behind the electronic blizzard on the TV screen a boxing match is always in progress, but he’s only half-watching it. What he’s interested in is the gringo perusing the shelves of dusty bottles.

The Mexicans themselves don’t buy their booze in liquor stores; they get it from the beer distributorships (Sub Agencias), or the big grocery stores like Cali-Max or Limon, or the Supermercado de Licores. At these places the prices can be twenty-two pesos (one dollar) cheaper per bottle or six-pack. Do what the natives do. Stay out of Mexican liquor stores unless you’re into the fights.

Another thing to watch for if you’re counting pennies is bottle volume. It may be measured in either metric or standard, but most likely it will be in metric. A blue or green band of paper across the bottle cap will always give the volume in metric, but these

cannot always be trusted. Check the label.

What Americans call a fifth is actually 4/5 of a quart. It equals 757 milliliters. The closest size in Mexico, their fifth, is 750 milliliters. A liter, 1000 milliliters, is about two shot-glasses more than a quart. The comparisons below are of the most similar volumes.

One final note: The price of liquor in Mexico is not controlled, and it is therefore subject to fluctuation from month to month and even week to week. For this reason you’ll sometimes run into a display of one brand of bottles marked with different prices. Keep your eyes peeled for this kind of bargain; it could only happen in Mexico. Salud.