Oct 9

Oct 9 Four Micheladas to Try in Houston

Sometime during the later part of summer, I hit my cocktail breaking point. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing but respect for the mixologists who stir, zest and blend their way into the hearts of many an eager patron. Bartenders like Patrick Abalos at Current at The Westin in the Woodlands and Laurie Harvey of Cherry Pie Hospitality are modern day alchemists. It’s not them, it’s me. I overdid it on all the syrup infused cocktails and I made a pact with myself to start looking for a new category to expand my palate. Perusing the brunch menu at Cuchara one Sunday, I stumbled across michelada, a word I’d never seen before. Sitting at the bar of the bustling eatery, the whimsical faces of the murals seemed to encourage me to take the leap. I chose the tamarind michelada and will never look back.

What is a michelada (MEE-chay-la-thah) you ask? It’s a mix of bubbly Mexican lager, lime juice, a variety of hot sauces and pepper flakes. The glossies file it under beer cocktails and more than a few waiters likened it to a Bloody Mary. I think Bloodies have too polarizing of a reputation for the comparison. Micheladas are a savory but light beverage where their American cousins could be a meal by themselves. Also, micheladas are favored as the go-to drink for the beach. You could still kick butt in sand volleyball after a few of these. Where should you start your michelada journey? Here are a few places I’d suggest.

Cuchara

Partial to the floral and fruity? Start with the Michelada Sangrita ($9). The mix of fresh squeezed orange, lime, and hibiscus juices make for a refreshing base. My Twitter famous bartender Amado suggested I try it with Modelo, “one of the smoothest of all Mexican beers.” I loved the combination of the Tajín seasoning and the guajillo pepper. It added a bite to the concoction of floral undertones. If you are spice averse, ask for yours with salt on the rim. The combination of guajillo pepper and Tajín might cause more sweating than you want at brunch.

Laurenzo's El Tiempo Cantina

Margaritas might first come to your mind when you think of Laurenzo’s but their Imported Michelada ($6.75) is not to be missed. The mix of Louisiana sauce, Worchester sauce, and lime juice was the closest thing I came to a traditional Bloody Mary. I drank mine with Pacifico and the humble beer was completely transformed by the depth of flavor this savory mix added. As I took sips to the soundtrack of vintage Shakira and musica de rock tunes, I concluded this michelada would be the least appealing version with salsa roja. Even though it is not tomato based, the salt and spices might compete with each other in an unpleasant way.

Caracol

Happy Hour michelada hunters look to Caracol. The Michelada de Chicharron ($7) is a mix of chipotle pepper-tomatillo sauce, sangrita, lime, and jalapenos. Of the four, this was my favorite “sipper” because the balance of the chipotle pepper and sangrita is such an unusual flavor that it needs to be savored. My extremely helpful waiter David shared that on the beaches of Mexico, the most traditional way is ”tabasco sauce, Valentina sauce, tajin, lime juice, salt, and clamato.” Kudos to the Caracol mixologists for using unique ingredients for the Michelada de Chicharron to bring us a contemporary take on the classic. The order of oysters-on-the-half-shell and Dos Equis washed away the highrises of Post Oak and transported me to a distant playa.

Nirvana = Mambo Michelad + seafood tostada

Mambo Seafood

I’ll keep it 100: One the previous waiters got me hip to the famous Mambo Michelada ($3.99 domestic or $4.99 imported). The anonymous informant vouched for their authenticity and while I can’t speak to that, I will say the Mambo Michelada was the only drink that made my cheeks pucker. If you are looking for floral undertones or hints of citrus this one isn’t for you. Instead “selected Louisiana cayenne peppers and distilled vinegar” make up the base of this local favorite. Unlike the other options, the secret mix is pre-bottled and sold in store. They even use a variation of the mix to season their seafood. I am partial to continuity and it speaks highly of Mambo that the ingredients can be repurposed successfully. As I sipped from the glass mug in between bites of my fish and shrimp tostada, I caught a glimpse of michelada nirvana. The sour and salty flavors gave weight to the lightness of the seafood. Who’s ready for volleyball?