Master mezcal maker Jorge Ramírez, Flor de María Velázquez, and her daughter Camila Ramírez Velázquez, who owns another mezcal brand called “Sabrá Dios.”
By Alfredo Espinola
From the mountains of Oaxaca, Flor de María Velázquez Mijangos challenged a male-dominated world to turn Yuu Baal into a worthy representative of Mexican artisanal mezcal. Today, at the helm of the Asociación de Maguey y Mezcal Artesanal (AMMA), her story embodies the strength, faith, and roots of the land where she was born.
In the world of mezcal, where fire and earth converse in silence, one woman learned to listen to the language of agave. Flor de María Velázquez Mijangos, originally from Miahuatlán de Porfirio Díaz, Oaxaca, grew up among coffee plantations and the aromas of mezcal that accompanied family conversations.
“There was always mezcal in my house; it was part of life. My grandfather offered it to his friends, and it was served at parties and farewells. It was always there, like the earth itself,” she recalls.
However, her destiny at that time did not seem to be written among the palenques. She studied International Relations at the Universidad del Mar in Huatulco and dreamed of working in an embassy or a transnational company. But mezcal was waiting for her. During her internship at the Ministry of Economy, she met a young mezcal master, Jorge Ramírez, now her husband, who was already making mezcal. “It was thanks to him that I fell in love with this world.”
What began as curiosity became a vocation. Soon, Flor delved into the palenques, carefully observing every part of the process, but that world had invisible limits.
“When I went with my husband and wanted to enter the palenque, they told me I couldn't, that it was dangerous if I was pregnant. They would take me out and throw chili peppers into the oven to protect the cooking, superstitions that still persist in many palenques,” she says.
At that time, Oaxaca was still a male-dominated field.
“At meetings, I was almost always the only woman. It was difficult for a woman to express her opinion or make decisions, but I learned to make myself heard," she emphasizes with pride.
The birth of Yuu Baal
The brand Yuu Baal (earth and fire) in Zapotec was born as a balance between the masculine and the feminine, between roots and passion. “It symbolizes the harmony between two forces; when both coexist, perfection emerges,” she explains.
When Flor took on an active role in the family business, her first challenge was with herself, leaving behind the idea of a secure job and embracing the uncertainty of entrepreneurship. Subsequently, it was to transform a family business that sold mezcal in bulk into a brand with an international presence. “I didn't want to stay local, I wanted to export.”
Her gamble paid off. While Jorge produced, Flor thought big. “I told him, ‘I'm going to export it.’” Many said it was impossible, but she decided to try, and in 2026 she made her first export. Since then, Yuu Baal has reached markets such as the United States, Canada, Spain, Italy, France, Brazil, the Philippines, and Korea. “I was my own brand ambassador; the first export was closed on Facebook.”
Today, Yuu Baal has ten labels: Espadín, Madrecuixe, Tepetate, Tobalá, Ensamble Navideño, Reposado, Añejo, Botánico, among others. Each one is a unique expression of the territory and the art of mezcal making.
Mezcal and community, a shared history
For Flor, mezcal is not just a product; it is community, it is family. “Our importers are not customers, they are Yuu Baal family,” she says. Her vision has always been collective. From the beginning, she encouraged her colleagues to believe in themselves as entrepreneurs, to become professionals, to break with the veiled machismo that still persists in the sector.
“If you have a brand, you pay taxes, you generate employment, you create a chain of production, you are already an entrepreneur,” she told them. Today, many of those friends export to Germany, Canada, and Chile. “One person's success is everyone's success,” she says.
A couple, one fire
Flor and Jorge are not only partners, they are life companions. After 25 years of marriage, “people ask us if we get tired of being together all day, and I tell them no.” They have learned to recognize their strengths: he is calmer and more numerical; she is more intense and stronger. That duality has been their strength.
“When a customer works with us, they end up becoming part of the Yuu Baal family. We are not just producers; we are hosts of our land. I like to be transparent. If mezcal has a history, it must be told as it is,” she adds.
From the palenque to certification
Flor's journey took her beyond her own brand. In 2014, together with other Oaxacan producers, she founded the Asociación de Maguey y Mezcal Artesanal (AMMA), an organization created to strengthen small producers and certify the authenticity of artisanal mezcal.
“We were fourteen crazy people who wanted to buy bottles in bulk so they would be cheaper. That's how it all started [laughs]. But when we faced certification issues, we decided to create our own organization.”
Today, AMMA is one of five national certification bodies with a different approach: accompanying the producer from the field to the market.
“Many don't get certified because it was expensive or complicated. We help them do it and also give them tools to understand their business: how to cost a liter of mezcal, how to create a brand, how to tell their story. A label is your first opportunity with the customer; it must reflect who you are,” she explains.
AMMA also promotes the ASAMMA (Atributos Sostenibles de la AMMA) green seal, which promotes sustainability in palenques, the planting of maguey in polyculture, the protection of wildlife, reforestation with endemic species, and soil and water conservation.
“If we don't change our practices, we're going to dig our own grave. The international market already demands sustainability; if you're not sustainable, you don't get in,” warns Flor.
Flor was elected president of AMMA in a territory that is still deeply male-dominated.
“They say these are women's times, but it's not true. I still face exclusion. There are events where I'm not invited, or I'm invited out of obligation. Sometimes they publish the official photos and delete me. But I'm not afraid. If anything distinguishes me, it's that I don't keep quiet," she says.
Her voice has become a reference point among women producers, mezcal masters, and young women who look to her as an example. “Many approach me and say, ‘Licenciada, seeing you gives me hope... that fills me, even though I know there is still a lot to do.’”
Flor recognizes that female empowerment must be built on mutual respect, not confrontation. “I don't want to be the man of the family; I want it to be recognized that I can also represent, decide, and build.”
Paradoxically, she says that sometimes the people who have criticized her the most are other women. “We talk about sisterhood, but there are those who come off stage and ask, 'Why did they invite that old woman? It's not about taking anything away from anyone, but about celebrating when one of us arrives. If I'm here, it's for everyone.”
The spirit of mezcal
For Flor, artisanal mezcal is more than a drink, it is a legacy. “Each batch is unique. There is no homogenization, no repetition. It is the soul of the master, of the soil, of the climate. We are the guardians of a heritage that comes from our grandparents.”
That is why she defends the balance between tradition and expansion, "we can grow, but without losing our soul. An artisanal palenque can produce more, yes, but without ceasing to respect the times and processes. The earth gives us, but it also takes from us.”
Her vision goes beyond business: “Mezcal is community; it is not Flor's organism, it is the sector's. Among mezcaleros, we know each other, we greet each other. There are those who want to divide us, but in the end, we are family. Among gypsies, we don't read each other's palms."
“Artisanal mezcal is not manufactured, it is created; it is time, earth, and human hands. That essence is what connects us to tradition and to ourselves,” adds Flor.
The future: mezcal with roots and conscience
When asked how she imagines the future of artisanal mezcal in 20 years, she replies without hesitation:
“It will depend on the decisions we make today. If we work from a basis of sustainability and authenticity, artisanal mezcal will be recognized worldwide as a symbol of Mexican cultural identity.”
The road will not be easy; excessive expansion threatens the biodiversity of the maguey and the essence of the craft, but Flor trusts in the awareness of the new generations. “There will be commercial mezcals, of course, but there will also be those who keep the master's work alive, the expansion of his community. We want to be there.”
In the end, her story is that of a woman who united fire and earth; love and character; tradition and modernity. “People always ask me what would happen if I lost everything. I tell them nothing, because I come from nothing. And I know how to get back up again, like the maguey, as long as there are roots, it will sprout again.”
Among maguey plants and memories, the final toast that says it all
Before saying goodbye, we invited Flor to imagine a conversation between Flor and Jorge of yesterday with who they are now. She emphasized that there would be no speeches, only looks of recognition and gratitude for those intact dreams and doubts that, although they have left scars, have also left certainties.
There is no doubt that Yuu Baal has witnessed her story, as if to say, “I am the mezcal that came today to brighten your afternoon, your evening. I came to reveal who you are today, and how you got here,” adds Flor.
There is no doubt that Flor bet everything, not only on success, but also on fidelity to her roots; she knew how to invest love in the legacy, which is reflected in every drop of Yuu Baal, which conveys the balance between earth and fire.