For the past six years, sales of premium tequila have been averaging growth of 20 percent per year. The good side of that is that the rot-gut stuff that is only half agave is becoming less popular and the finely crafted good stuff is showing up in more and more bars. But which brands are for real and which ones are just riding the bandwagon?

Fortunately, most of the good stuff is quite good, so most of the silliness in pricing comes from fancy hand-blown bottles, silver medallions, and carved wooden cases. If you’re paying more than $80 for a bottle that hasn’t been aged for years, you are likely paying for one of these marketing enhancements.

Siembra Azul (Blue Harvest) tequila is a nice departure. Trusting buyers to purchase based on taste instead of flash, this is a high-end, high-scoring tequila that puts its money into agave fruit instead of eye candy bottles.

I’ve been sipping the añejo version of Siembra Azul this past week and it ranks among the best I’ve sampled over the years, with the distinct floral and herbal overtones you get from the highland regions of Jalisco and the perfect interweaving of flavors you get from an attention to high quality throughout the process. In this region, the agave plants grow at an average elevation of 7200 feet above sea level, giving them a terroir and flavor profile that many believe is more distinctive and complex than the brands grown at lower elevations.

This version was developed by David Suro-Piñera, a Guadalajara native who has owned a restaurant and tequila bar in Philadelphia since 1986. He wasn’t content to go halfway: each liter requires around 11.5 kilos of agave, compared to a standard level of 7 kilos. The agave piñas are roasted in ovens for 36 hours, with each oven cleaned between roastings. There’s double distillation, copper pot stills, and then the añejo is aged for 12 months in new American oak barrels.

The quality shines through and this tequila has been winning raves in blind taste tests, even before the judges find out that the list price is $45. But what about a hook? Anything to make Siembra Azul really stand out from the pack? Well, how about this—it’s kosher!

For more on the subject, see our feature story on premium tequila in Jalisco.

It’s been awhile since I did any Latin American spirits taste test posts on here, so it’s time to pull out my reliable duty-free favorite Ron Zacapa. “Ron” is “rum” in these parts, but Mr. Zacapa is the king when it comes to Central America. You may see a local brand from Costa Rica or Panama here and there and Nicaragua’s Flor de Cana wins the prize for the best distribution. But if you’re going for quality, reach for the rum from—of all places—Guatemala.

I’m personally partial to the 15-year version, which seems to have the perfect balance of sweetness, caramel, butterscotch, and oak. It envelops you with the comfort of a warm blanket and a fireplace at the first sip and lingers on the finish like a night you never want to end. It’s smooth, warm, and elegant, with the complexity you would expect from something made well and aged well. There’s none of that typical rum “black strap bite” you get from its Nicaraguan counterpart and you can sip it neat all night long.

There’s a 23-year version as well, though for my taste buds it seems like too much of a good thing. The oak is much more prominent and it loses some of the character you can taste in the version that’s not almost a quarter-century old. For Scotch stored in cold climates the extra years can help, but in the hot tropics, there’s a limit to how long is too long.

The brilliant thing about this rum is the price: in duty-free shops you can commonly find the 15-year version for around $20, which is one of the world’s screaming spirits bargains. Even the 23-year version is often on sale for less than $35, fancy wood box included. If you’re heading home from Latin America and are looking for an appropriate gift, this one will elicit some appreciative smiles later. If you’re buying a gift for someone in Central America, this is a sure bet.

Have you ever paid $250 for a bottle of liquor, thinking that premium price equates to extra quality? Hate to break it to you, but you’ve probably been duped by crafty marketing.

As this newspaper article (which appeared in longer form in the Wall Street Journal) notes, after a certain point you’re just paying for prettier packaging and a desire to impress someone.

“There’s an illusion pushed that when you spend more, you get more quality…But there is usually a plateau to quality in high-end goods. The difference between Hennessy’s XO Cognac ($95) and Paradis ($350) has far more to do with other intangibles like greed, ego, and vanity.”

The worst offenders overall are vodka producers, who try to pretend that their tasteless, colorless alcohol is better than the other guy’s and is worth $50 a bottle and more. This great article, Make Mine a 02001, offers a hilarious insight on where much of this “premium vodka” comes from: the same factories cranking out industrial solvents, mouthwash, hairspray, and astringents. Here’s my favorite part:

I went to a vodka tasting hosted by the head of a prominent luxury liquor house. It was an exercise meant to dispel the notion that the differences among vodkas are illusory. But after being walked through the vodkas on the table with elaborate descriptions of the characteristics of each, I found myself hard-pressed to discern much difference. So I asked the executive to demonstrate the differences by tasting the vodkas blind. He couldn’t even identify his own flagship brand.

If you’re going to get the most for your money, aim for the middle: the $35 to $50 bottle of rum, anejo tequila, or bourbon that has aged the ideal number of years (3 to 7 depending on which spirit), or the $40 to $75 Scotch that has aged for 12 years (colder climates require more time). Too much oak can be a bad thing though, so don’t assume more aging is automatically better. Although Reserva de la Familia is a great tequila and a Pappy Van Winkle bourbon is pretty special, most spirits that have spent too long in a barrel taste like as much like the barrel as the original liquor. Experiment and learn what you really like, then buy more. Pass by the $250 showpieces with boxes and gold leaf and buy five bottles of great stuff you and your guests will really enjoy instead.

I got set up with some Peruvian Pisco recently and I was able to try some different brands and types of this little-known spirit. If you’ve been to Peru, of course, you’ve probably drunk plenty of Pisco sours. It’s a common welcome drink at hotels and it’s a freebie to lure you in for dinner at competitive restaurants in Cusco. At high-end hotels and bars, however, they make a far superior version with better ingredients, so it’s worth seeking out a good one just to see how good it can be in the hands of a skilled bartender.

I had never drunk it neat before, however, and didn’t even have any idea there were different varietals and blends. In the U.S., after all, it’s pretty hard to even find Pisco in a bar and even then it’s often a Chilean version that many experts say is inferior. So what does it taste like? Well, different, first of all. Pisco occupies that no man’s land of 20 percent alcohol, stronger than wine but half the strength of most spirits. Plus, like brandy or cognac, it’s made from grapes and not grains. But it’s not aged in barrels. It’s not aged at all actually. So it comes across as not all that smooth or mellowed, but more interesting and aromatic than a straight spirit like vodka and not as harsh as some of the firewater you are likely to come across elsewhere in Latin America.

There are different versions based on different grapes, but all are distilled and clear. In Peru you might find varietals like Torontel, and Italia (and you can special order them in the U.S.), but the varieties are usually mixed together in a blend called Acholado. The other common version you’ll likely find is Quebranta, which is non-aromatic and perhaps more elegant. Unless you’re intending to become an expert, you’ll be fine either way, especially if you are planning to use it for cocktails.

In my opinion, Pisco is a great undiscovered spirit when it comes to cocktails. It is less boring than vodka but blends in better with most juices than white rum or tequila (especially cheap white rum or tequila). There’s no oak aging, so it goes well with a lot of different mixers. Buy a bottle of BarSol Pisco if you see it on a shelf or try a Pisco Punch or Pisco Sour next time you’re in a well-stocked bar with a bartender who knows his or her stuff.