A woman walks into a bar … that’s the start of a joke and the start of my blog – margagogo.
I’m on the hunt. And I’m serious.
Who makes the perfect Margarita? Does such a thing even exist? What does perfect even mean? Sweet & tangy? Lots of tequila? Doesn’t induce heartburn while it gives you a buzz? The right amount of ice on a hot day? Goes great with guacamole?
For me the perfect margarita strikes a balance – not too sweet, not too tangy, enough tequila to taste and enough lime to smooth it out.
Mix abuse (using too cheap, too sweet, too sour or too much mix) should be a crime and though I appreciate the effort, I don’t think Patron or other high-end, aged tequila makes or breaks the drink.
I’ve had great Margaritas in unexpected places, like at a hotel bar in Boston. But I couldn’t find a Margarita to drink during a month in Mexico.
I take risks and order Margaritas in Irish bars. So far, I haven’t been rewarded for my boldness. The Irish bar Margarita is often a startling shade of shamrock (a telltale sign of mix abuse). I appreciate the theme but not the taste. And there are Mexican restaurants that fare no better. The bartenders seem challenged by my order (a Margarita) and the fizzed up sweet concoction they serve can’t be doctored to health.
I’m a veteran Margarita hunter and I have the wounds to prove it. At times it might be grueling. This effort is a marathon, not a sprint. I know I will drink more too sweet, only-a-kid-could-love-but-that-would-be-illegal margaritas. I will suffer through the too sour and the salt in the glass when I asked for none (yes, full disclosure, I don’t like a salted rim).
So armed with life experience and a serious taste for frozen drinks, I am on the hunt. I will tell you where to find the good ones and help you avoid the mistakes I’ve made.
And before I start this adventure, a special thank you and shout out to Jimmy Buffet.
margagogo 
Salud!