By Alfredo Espinola
In a corner of Oaxaca, a family has turned the art of mezcal into a legacy that spans generations. Between the earth, water, and spirit, Cristina Flores and master mezcal maker Lázaro Cárdenas keep alive the essence of Kuxtal, a Mayan word meaning “LIFE.”
In Oaxaca, the land breathes with the pulse of the maguey plants, between mountains and dusty roads, in the region of Miahuatlán, where the sun ripens the leaves that will give rise to one of Mexico's oldest and most sacred distillates, mezcal. There, where tradition blends with heritage and faith, Kuxtal was born, a family project whose name carries an ancestral promise: life.
Cristina, a young woman with a calm but firm voice, does not define herself as a businesswoman, but as the guardian of a story. “For me, Kuxtal is not a company, it is a family project that began with my great-grandmother,” she says. “She was the one who said, ‘Let's start with this mezcal thing.’” Since then, life has been distilled from generation to generation.
Lázaro Cárdenas and Cristina Flores offer samples of Kuxtal Mezcal.
Cristina’s uncle, the master Lázaro, has spent more than two decades perfecting this craft, which is passed down in her family as a secret of the soul. His voice conveys both the certainty of his craft and the humility of an artisan: “Mezcal involves work, sweat, and effort. Each bottle holds respect for the land and water. If the raw material is not good, there is no good mezcal.”
A legacy in distillation
Kuxtal emerged from a story woven by women and men who understood mezcal not as a drink, but as a destiny. When Cristina brought the project to Mexico City, she did so with the aim of introducing the world to the flavor of her lineage. “We wanted people to enjoy this generational, family mezcal, to know its history and its heart,” she explains.
That heart is not a metaphor. At the center of the Kuxtal logo is a heart of the agave, a symbol of rebirth. Cristina designed it inspired by her own life experience. “Kuxtal means life, and for me it represents the life of a heart that started beating again. It's my family's story.”
Master Lázaro, with his empirical knowledge and alchemist's intuition, has brought the artisanal process to an almost scientific precision. “We used to use water from the well, but we discovered that its minerals could alter the fermentation. Now we purify the water to make the mezcal more noble, mixing technology with craftsmanship," he explains.
His philosophy is clear: respect the origin without renouncing evolution. “Mezcal has to move forward without losing its purity. If we don't move forward, we remain stagnant. We must take care of the essence of the maguey, but also understand what the current market demands.”
The soul of the maguey
At Kuxtal, nothing is improvised; each plant has its own time, each oven its own fire. “Espadín, for example, can be baked for a week; tepeztate needs nine or ten days,” says Lázaro. “Each maguey is different, like a person. Even though they grow in the same soil, no two are alike.”
These differences give rise to the 18 varieties of mezcal that the family produces: espadín, tóbala tepeztate, coyote, jabalí, selva negra, among others. All are distilled with the same principle in mind: respect for the land, the water, and those who work it. “We pay the producers what their maguey is worth,” explains Lázaro. “It's not about haggling, but about recognizing the years of life behind each plant.”
This relationship of respect with the community is part of the core of Kuxtal. For them, mezcal is not only made in the palenque, it is woven in the hands of those who cut the maguey in the mountains, in the rains that feed the earth, and in the memory of those who are no longer with us.
Between tradition and the future
The world of mezcal is experiencing unprecedented expansion. New brands emerge every month, many driven more by aesthetics than tradition, which Lázaro observes with a mixture of hope and concern. "Today, mezcals are made to sell an image, but true mezcal is not made in a hurry or for fashion. Our fear is not competition, it is that the maguey will run out. Without maguey there is no life.”
Cristina agrees: “We are concerned that the day will come when there will be no more water or natural agave, that everything will be cultivated and the flavor of the earth will be lost. That is why we take care of nature, we come from it and the future of mezcal lies in it.”
Both understand that tradition is not enough if capital does not move, but neither is it enough if the essence is betrayed. “If money doesn't move, tradition stagnates, but if it moves without soul, tradition dies,” says Lázaro. It is in this balance, between the ancestral and the contemporary, that Kuxtal seeks its place.
Mezcal as destiny
When Cristina recalls the first time she tasted her family's mezcal, her eyes light up. “It was exciting, not only because of the taste, but because I felt I was drinking something that was mine. It was the life of my great-grandmother, my uncle, my history.”
Master Lázaro, for his part, has a more spiritual relationship. “I made a marriage with mezcal, I said, I'm going to mold it with my hands, give it my stamp, my essence. It doesn't matter if there are ten thousand brands, ours will be different.”
In the alliance between niece and uncle, between woman and master, mezcal ceases to be a drink and becomes a language, a symbol, a link between generations. “Consumers don't just want flavor, they want history, they want to know where what they drink comes from,” says Lázaro.
That's why every bottle of Kuxtal is a liquid story, the echo of a tradition that refuses to die, the reflection of a Mexico that still resists from its roots.
The weight of legacy
At the end of the day, when the sun sets behind the mountains of Miahuatlán, Lázaro addresses Cristina in a slow voice, “Thank you for trusting in my work,” and she replies, “Thank you for allowing me to continue it.”
The mezcal glistens in the glass like a mirror of fire. In that gesture, there is more than a toast; there is gratitude, memory, and destiny. Because Kuxtal is not just a mezcal; it is the pulse of a family that turned water, earth, and agave into a heart that continues to distill life.
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