Fresh green cardamom. Warm concrete after summer rain. Water from a garden hose on an August afternoon. I’m on a barstool at Bar Comala, overlooking the North Park Blocks, sipping my way through a glass of contrasts. It’s not a cocktail, nor wine. It’s La Venenosa “Sierra de Amula,” an agave spirit of astounding complexity from the south of Jalisco, distilled in a copper pot partially set inside the trunk of a parota tree. 

We are living in a golden age of agave spirits. For every mass-market George Clooney tequila or Diageo-owned mezcal brand, there are artisan producers
distilling micro-lots of extraordinary mezcal, tequila, and raicilla, plus assorted destilados de agave that do not comport to newly codified certification specs. In the past decade, no spirit category has grown more precipitously in the United States than agave: In 2023, it overtook whiskey in terms of annual national sales. In 2024, it surpassed vodka in US bar sales.

And yet, here in 2026, it’s borderline impossible—and frankly myopic—to separate an appreciation of Mexican spirits from the wider political and cultural context. As relations between the US and its southern neighbor reach a modern political nadir, delving into the world of agave, especially while prioritizing small producers and traditional methods, carries with it a twinge of defiance. I’ve found myself more and more obsessed with mezcal and raicilla at the precise moment in which bigotry toward Mexican people in America has become codified as national policy.

Meanwhile, the Portland metro area has fostered a growing cadre of bars that focus on agave across a spectrum of styles and experiences, even as it becomes more expensive and even dangerous to celebrate Mexican culture within the United States. Bartenders have embraced agave as a building block for their menus, many of which use cocktails to introduce spirits like mezcal to customers. “We like to turn people on with cocktails first,” says Daniel Estrada, Comala’s former bar manager. That helps to demystify the spirit, he adds, and then “we can show people what it can really do.” 

If you’re just looking for a great Oaxacan old-fashioned or souped-up margarita, Portland delivers that in droves. But if you want to go deeper—for the rare
offerings that taste like nuanced cocktails unto themselves—our top agave bars are there to take you on that journey. Start with a killer mixed drink at any of these bars, then chat up the staff about neat pours of the good stuff, each expressing distinct tradition, terroir, and artisan mastery.

Bar Comala 

Part of the República & Co. hospitality group, Comala gives the spirits of Mexico pride of place in every aspect of its concept. Candles flicker in the shadows, music from across Mexico hums, the country’s classic cinema plays quietly on a projector screen; the cumulative effect is transportive, like walking into a destination bar in Ciudad de México. The ever-changing cocktail list uses liquors and liqueurs from across Mexico’s diverse distilling traditions. Dive in with a negroni variation, dubbed Negroni Sonorense, which features Earl Grey tea, Bianca aperitivo, and bacanora, the state agave spirit of Sonora. 

From there, Comala can lead you deeper down the rabbit hole through its curated collection. Around a quarter of guests at Comala take their spirits neat, and I implore you to do the same for pours sourced from an elite roster of master distillers across Mexico, including Real Minero and Origen Raiz. If you’re unsure where to start, a smart selection of flights focuses on regional styles (including raicilla and sotol), as well as specific agave varieties. Or, opt for the Dealer’s Choice—your bartender will pull something awesome off the wall for maximum geeking out. 

Güero

Ceramicist Ben Skiba started at Güero in 2017, not long after the sandwich shop opened in Kerns. In the near-decade since, Güero has built an ardent fan base for its tortas, cheffy rice bowls, and one of the city’s best hamburgers. Along the way, Skiba, now bar manager, has elevated its agave program into one of the city’s best, serving a laser-focused menu of cocktails and neat pours with affordability and exploration to the fore.

“If we want to share these spirits we love then we have to make them affordable,” Skiba says. He buys only from Mexican-owned bottle brands, and eschews those from multinational conglomerates or assorted corporate ogres (no Cuervo-owned 400 Conejos here). On the menu, this looks like a mezcal margarita made with Agua del Sol espadín, sour orange, Ancho chile, and avocado-leaf salt. 

Order one of those, then move on to Güero’s destilados—neat pours served in ceramic vessels Skiba fires himself. There are only a dozen available at a time, but they’re expertly chosen, and the menu lists batch size, agave variety, and the name of the mezcalero/a behind the magic. Puebla microdistiller Tlamati made less than 100 liters of the espadilla on Skiba’s menu, which Güero serves for only $16. “We take a loss on all these pours,” Skiba says. “It’s about a move towards living a nonhomogenous lifestyle.” 

Holy Ghost Bar 

Soft goth–coded and eminently moody, Holy Ghost is an agave joint in disguise: Around half of the 50-plus drinks on the menu employ mezcal or tequila, including flights, flipped classics, and original creations. While most of the agave here appears in cocktails, you’re in luck if you’re a drink-it-neat freak like me. The bar’s vast selection sits pretty under glowing backlights, an acre of agave that runs the gamut of price points and rarity. Call your shot with cult brands like Vago and Mal Bien, or spin the bar’s Roulette menu, which pairs a randomized mezcal selection with a Modelito for $15. I can also recommend, perhaps bafflingly, the Rumple Minze and Banhez “Holy Spirit” freezer shot. It has no business working in this or any lifetime, and yet does so with eerie effectivity, frosty and weird and compelling all at once. 

Colibri by Tamale Boy

Tamale Boy’s Pearl District bar offshoot has quietly become one of my favorite places in town to drink agave, with around 40 bottles on hand—including tequila, mezcal, and sotol. The food also whips: Colibri’s Vampiro-style steak taco with melted Jack cheese and salsa macha demands an equally bold pairing. A generous happy hour runs 3 to 6pm daily, during which you can order a rotating blind tasting of agave spirits or drink a startlingly good Colibrita Boilermaker, a shot of fine tequila alongside a mini-Corona splashed with maraschino cherry syrup. Colibri’s bar service is fun and engaging, and every visit I’m surrounded by discerning diners ordering stuff on the menu I haven’t tried yet. Between the food and the drinks and the energy of the room, there’s something special going on here. Go with it. 

Vancouver Detour: Little Conejo & Thirsty Sasquatch 

Mezcal has been part of the equation at downtown Vancouver’s Little Conejo since the taqueria opened in 2017. Today, the selection is significant: I counted around 100 bottles on my last visit, from benchmarks like Rey Campero to revered rarities like Lalocura and Macurichos. The good news is that you will drink extremely well here; the bad news is that prices aren’t listed, and you’ll have to ask the staff to check each time. 

Since you’re already in Vancouver for mezcal, check out Thirsty Sasquatch less than a mile north. The next-door bar to the Hungry Sasquatch pizzeria has a little something for everyone—20-plus beers on tap, multiple espresso martinis—but the Squatch is also a well-stocked candy shop for the curious liquor nerd. You’ll find around a dozen bottles of thoughtfully selected mezcals, poured neat and stiff at a fair price.