Are Fuenteseca's aged tequilas great? Absolutely, yes. Are they worth $700-plus? Well...

USA Today

30-04-2025

Are Fuenteseca's aged tequilas great? Absolutely, yes. Are they worth $700-plus? Well...
Welcome back to FTW's Beverage of the Week series. Here, we mostly chronicle and review beers, but happily expand that scope to any beverage that pairs well with sports. Yes, even cookie dough whiskey.
Despite my recent turn toward agave, I remain a relative tequila neophyte. A decade-plus of avoiding the spirit thanks to the same kind of bad experience most of us have with it (thanks, Pepe Lopez!) left me to play catch-up while churning through beer and whiskey and developing my palate there.
That's changed thanks to my role as FTW's resident drinks expert, but despite expanding my horizons I'd never had anything like Fuenteseca before. While the añejos I'd tried had the spirit's standard one-to-three years of aging, I hadn't seen a tequila maker who leaned into long, Scotch-esque barrel times like the Jalisco-based distiller.
Fuenteseca sent airplane bottles of its seven, 18 and 21-year expressions for sampling. I was excited to dig in. Here's how it turned out.
Extra Añejo Reserva 7 years: A
I typically drink tequila with ice. But I typically don't drink tequila that's spent more than a couple years aging, let alone the long-enough-to-develop-back-pain stretch Fuenteseca has made its identity. I'm expecting the same effects you get from whiskeys, where there will be nice oak influences -- a little caramel and vanilla with a little sweetness -- and a mellow spirit.
It smells like a typical añejo. A very nice añejo with warm agave and those sweet notes you'd expect from a tequila that got all the way to second grade inside a barrel. But there's also a minor spice; a little cinnamon and clove that gets me pretty excited about the whole deal.
The first sip is extremely mellow up front. You're left wondering where the flavor went when, whoosh, it all clocks in toward the end. This is a *dense* finish, one that rushes through cinnamon and sugar and vanilla and maybe even a little wintergreen. That all works against a backdrop of agave and oak -- that's the low-key start and the foundation that carries everything along.
It's a great sipper and undoubtedly unlike anything I've had before. The flavors are familiar, but the sudden rush at the end is not. At $300ish (I saw it as low as $177 online) it's not cheap by a long shot. But it brings an extra layer to your anejo that makes it more than a conversation piece. Is that worth the price? Man, I dunno, probably not for me -- but if you've got the cash and you love tequila, absolutely go for it.
Extra Añejo Reserva 18 years: A-
So on we move to an $800-ish bottle. Cool, cool. Totally normal stuff.
It pours maybe a smidge lighter than the seven year, which wasn't what I'd expected but also, I'm colorblind. It's possible I'm wrong. The smell has a little more dessert flavor to it, with some cherry and chocolate with that agave and oak. There's also a little bit of boozy warmth toward the end.
The opening impression is sweet up front but tame. That vanilla is more pronounced up front before a brief agave and oak interlude. Then we get the tempest; swirling cinnamon and spice and a little bit of that chocolate sweetness.
It's a little more intense than the seven year. Probably not worth tripling the price for, but the result is another exceptionally smooth tequila with some wild and complex bursts of flavor. As you'd expect, there's a little warmth but nothing that approaches burning. Dig in and you get some interesting herbal notes -- clove, anise and more -- but the general vibe is a soothing hard candy through and through.
Extra Añejo Reserva 21 years: A-
$1,200 for 750 milliliters of this one. Good lord.
My first impression here is a bit unique. I didn't seal the bottle tightly enough and spilled some on my hands. Because I was born with terminal poor brain my first instinct was to lick it up and... dang. No harshness, no burn, nothing but the agave to let you know you're dealing with something boozy.
To which, hell yeah. This pours similarly light as the 18 year but smells lighter. The soft agave and sweet oak are there. There's a little bit of the cinnamon and some spice that gives off a mild apple pie vibe. Without the apples, obviously, but that's an interesting place to start. Despite two decades in a barrel, there isn't an overwhelming oak influence here. It's noticeable, but it doesn't dominate the spirit underneath.
The first sip opens with a little cinnamon and carries more spice throughout the gulp. That cinnamon is the headliner this time around; spicy and a little fruity. Then the vanilla and oak come into play, giving you a well rounded but immensely drinkable dram that ranges back toward the "fancy hard candy" that came into play with the 18-year. It all gives the vibe of a weekend at grandma's house except, whoops, grandma not only loves the sauce but is capable of spending tons of money on it.
This is a lovely drink. Not one I would pay $80 per glass for just to drink at home, but that's me. The vanilla, cinnamon, oak and agave weave a braid other tequilas can barely turn into a knot.
Would I drink it instead of a Hamm's?
This a pass/fail mechanism where I compare whatever I'm drinking to my baseline cheap beer. That's the standby from the land of sky-blue waters, Hamm's. So the question to answer is: on a typical day, would I drink Fuenteseca's specially aged tequilas over a cold can of Hamm's?
Let's start with the conversion rate. The cheapest I can find the Fuenteseca seven-year online is $177. That puts it at about $12 per 50-millililer pour. For that same $12 I can go to Woodman's and buy at least 24 cans of Hamm's. So the math is not in Fuenteseca's favor.
But it was never supposed to be. It's a luxury; a unicorn that applies Scotch scarcity to the minimally aged arena of tequila. The end result is a unique, satisfying expression that brings big complex flavors that hit my tongue in a way unlike any tequila I've ever had.
The quality and novelty of the seven-year carried over to the older, more expensive expressions. Those were great, but there's a sliding scale of diminishing returns on that flavor. The 21-year is better than the seven-year. It's not four to six times better, as the price would indicate.
The Fuentesecas old enough to fight for their country are more conversation starter than must-have spirit. That's totally fine! There's room for that! But that recommended seven-year is still a bottle that approaches $200 at your local, fancy, liquor store.
So, it's not for everyone. I wouldn't have sought it out other than to review it. I probably won't be buying it because, you know, poor brain. But I'm glad I tried it. If you're the kind of person who likes impressing your friends with fancy stuff, each bottle is an opportunity. It's very good tequila. Whether that's worth the price is entirely up to you.