ZAPOTLANEJO, Mexico - Here in the heart of Mexico's tequila country, where every
town has a distillery and the air smells sweet like fermenting molasses, a sign
proudly marks the entrance to Miguel Ramírez's farm: "Rancho Ramírez: Producer
of Agaves."
But behind the fence, the blue-agave plants, the raw ingredient of
Like other farmers in western
They are part of an international trend, as everyone from
"Corn is where the money is now," Ramírez said, admiring his new crop from the
bed of a pickup truck. "I'm going to get out of agave completely."
With white corn selling in Mexico for 18 cents a pound this month - its highest
price in at least a decade - compared with as little as 2 cents for agave, the
switch was probably inevitable, said Martín Sánchez, director of agriculture for
the tequila council.
"We don't have good numbers, but we know it is happening: People are abandoning
their fields of agave and flipping over to other crops," Sánchez said.
In many fields east of
Prices are so low that the crop is not worth harvesting, said Antonio Aceves, a
farmer in the town of
Aceves said the seeds of uncertainty in the agave market were sown in 1997, when
a frost killed millions of young plants. By 2002, agave prices had risen to a
stunning 80 cents a pound. José Cuervo, Sauza, Herradura and other distillers
were paying up to $100 for a single "pineapple," or agave heart.
"You practically had to guard your field with an army," Aceves said. "A lot of
people got rich, and suddenly, everybody was planting agave."
The big tequila makers, meanwhile, became determined to avoid another shortage.
They began growing agave themselves on rented land and contracted with
hard-nosed brokers to cover any shortfall, said Rafael Aldana, an officer of the
farmers' co-op in the town of
An agave plant takes five to seven years to mature, so farmers are now facing a
glut of agave and no buyers. About 25 of Aldana's 35 acres of agave are ripe for
the picking, he said.
"Nobody wants them," he said. "I'll probably lose them all."
In a field near the town of
"Beans grow fast," he said. "You tend an agave for six years, and then the price
drops on you or you get hit with a freeze or something. It's a lot of investment
to lose."
The price of beans in
At his feed store in Tototlán, Guadalupe Salorio said sales of corn seed went up
20 percent this spring as agave farmers switched crops.
The rise in the price of food crops is an international trend as developing
countries such as China and India begin to eat better, high oil prices raise the
cost of fertilizer, and the United States and Europe divert corn and vegetable
oils into refineries aimed at making alternative fuels.
As of June, world food costs had risen 62 percent since early 2006, according to
Oxford Economic Forecasting, a British consulting firm. The worldwide price of
cereals such as corn and wheat was up 120 percent.
In the American South, cotton planting was the lowest since 1983 as farmers
switched to corn and soybeans, according to U.S. Department of Agriculture
statistics.
In
Corn prices were expected to ease slightly in the
"It's a whole problem of mentality, where you have millions of acres focused on
producing just a few crops," Stabinsky said. "It's been highly detrimental to
crop diversity."
Tequila officials, meanwhile, believe there could be an agave shortage on the
horizon, Sánchez said.
"When the price of agave is low, people get demoralized and abandon their
crops," he said. "There's often a lack of good long-term planning."
During the last agave shortage, in 2001-02, makers of some premium tequilas
raised prices by a few dollars a bottle. Others began adding other types of
alcohol to their products to stretch supplies. Tequila has to contain only 51
percent of pure agave to carry the name.
Distillers already are preparing for leaner days by stockpiling finished
tequila, he said. And some growers have stopped weeding and spraying their older
agave plants, devoting their attention to younger plants in hopes that the price
will bounce back.
Rafael Murillo is one of the optimists. On a hill outside Tequila, he used a
sickle to whack away at weeds around some 3-year-old agave plants, their blue
spines now thigh-high.
"The mature agaves are a lost cause," Murillo said. "But I'm not going to become
a corn farmer yet. These little ones still have a future."
Reach the reporter at chris
.hawley@arizonarepublic.com.