Raging Bull
- 1 oz Tequila Blanco (Don Fulano Fuerte Blanco)
- 1 oz Aquavit (Aquavitus)
- 1 oz Amaro Averna
- 2 Dsh Bittermens Xocolatl Mole bitters
- Stir ingredients in ice for 20-30 seconds, strain into an old fashioned glass over a large rock
- Garnish with a orange twist
Happy Friday, friends!
As you may have read, last week’s Crystal Manhattan came from a tequila tasting I arranged with Cantina del Centro for the Kelowna Newcomers Club. Alongside the cocktail, we sampled six tequilas representing the breadth of the category in Mexico today.
One of them was Don Fulano Fuerte–essentially a barrel-strength blanco bottled straight from distillation without dilution. At 100 proof, it runs 10 to 20 proof points higher than a typical blanco.
It was bold. Peppery. Unapologetic.
It was also a table favorite.
After hosting a smaller follow-up tasting at home for friends who missed the original event, it was the runaway winner again. “Fuerte” isn’t just about alcohol content–it’s about presence.
Which brings us to this week’s cocktail.
Meet the Raging Bull.
To be clear, this is not the caffeinated shot involving Red Bull. This version comes from the Gladstone House Hotel in Toronto and is said to be an evolution of the Black Manhattan.
With equal parts tequila, aquavit, and Averna, however, it behaves more like a Negroni–each ingredient holding equal authority.
The mole bitters tie it together.
We’ve visited Amaro Averna before in the Flannel Shirt. The Sicilian liqueur brings bittersweet notes of cola, caramel, roasted coffee, citrus zest, and dark chocolate–all of which integrate beautifully here.
We’ve also used aquavit before — in this case Aquavitus from Okanagan Spirits. Like its Scandinavian ancestors, it leads with caraway and dill, layered with fennel, anise, coriander, and juniper.
Both are assertive spirits. Neither gets bullied in this glass.
The Star of the show, though, is Don Fulano Fuerte Blanco
Don Fulano Fuerte is distilled from estate-grown Blue Weber agave harvested in the highlands of Jalisco.
Much like Scotch regions are often described by geography and climate, tequila also reflects altitude. Highland agave grows in iron-rich red soil with less natural moisture, often yielding fruit-forward, concentrated flavors.
After cooking, fermentation, and double distillation, this tequila rests briefly–about six months–before bottling at full proof.
The result: bold pepper on the front, followed by roasted agave sweetness, citrus zest, cinnamon, and a distinct mineral backbone. It can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with any spirit in a cocktail.
In the Raging Bull, it has to.
The bitters bridges it all together. Bittermens Xocolatl Mole bitters were designed with tequila in mind. Here they function like connective tissue:
- Dark chocolate echoing the Averna
- Cinnamon amplifying the tequila
- Anise harmonizing with the aquavit
Nothing dominates. Everything resonates.
Orange oil lifts from the glass first. Then cola and chocolate from the Averna arrive, supported by vegetal agave and caraway beneath. The first sip carries a natural sweetness across the front of the palate. Mid-sip, cocoa and caramel deepen the experience.
As it finishes, spice emerges–cinnamon, anise, dill–leaving a long, contemplative echo.
This is not a bright patio sipper. It’s a fireside drink. A thinking drink.
A cocktail for transitions.
This week also brought another kind of raging bull to mind.
The band Live–fronted by the ever-intense Ed Kowalczyk–was a constant in my life during another major transition.
In 1993, after graduating from UC Santa Cruz, I moved back to Southern California to live with my grandmother while she underwent treatment for breast cancer. I finished my thesis, worked part-time, and helped her navigate chemo–including the quiet, intimate moment of shaving the last wisps of hair before she began wearing a wig full-time.
She passed in 1994.
After that, I moved to the City of Orange and worked two part-time jobs: opening a coffee cart in the mornings at a children’s hospital for Diedrich’s Coffee, and tutoring teens in a group home. It was a period that demanded discipline and clarified what I wanted from my life.
There was also a lot of driving. And a lot of singing.
Live’s Mental Jewelry (1991) and Throwing Copper (1994) were constant companions. Their 90s alt-rock crescendos felt like emotional release valves–singing at the top of my lungs somewhere between the 5 and the 405 freeways.
Those songs gave shape to uncertainty. They gave volume to resilience.
Fast forward to this week.
Live came through Kelowna on the Canadian leg of their tour–and my family gifted me tickets for Christmas.
Hearing “Pain Lies on the Riverside,” “Operation Spirit,” “Lightning Crashes,” “I Alone,” and “The Dolphin’s Cry” transported me back instantly. Though I was admittedly more self-conscious belting them out in an arena than I was alone in my car at 22.
Still, the emotions resurfaced. And they rhymed.
Because last year brought another transition: packing in February, moving my wife north in March, staying behind in Portland with my daughter until June to complete the move. Heartfelt goodbyes, and hopeful bye-for-nows. Uncertainty. Fortitude.
Different decade. Same muscle memory.
The goal has always been to live deeply and deliberately–to “suck the marrow” out of life, whether 22 or 54.
Music helps. Cocktails also help.
Both mark time.
So with a Raging Bull in hand, I raise a glass to revisiting the soundtrack of early adulthood–not to relive it, but to measure the distance traveled.
To recognize the through-line of strength and resilience.
To acknowledge that the future is still being made.
Cheers. 🥃🍁🎙️
