Trujillo Manifiesto 56
When the Hype Train Leaves Without You
Trujillo Manifiesto 56. I wanted to like this bottle—like, really wanted to. This is their flagship. It’s award-winning. It’s basically tequila prom king right now. All the big-name reviewers are slow dancing with it while I’m awkwardly hovering by the punch bowl wondering what the hell is wrong with my palate.
I’ve come back to this bottle at least seven times—more if we’re being honest. I’ve tried different glasses, different moods, even different music. Still the same outcome: alcohol and burn. That’s it. I swear I’m not trying to be dramatic, but the flavor just ghosted me completely. It’s like licking the air at a college bar after midnight—loud, sharp, and vaguely disappointing.
The nose? Look, I’m self-aware enough to admit mine isn’t exactly a bloodhound. But I think I get olives. Or maybe it’s just the scent of my own confusion. Other people are out here picking up lime, anise, and poetic metaphors, and I’m over here sniffing around like, “uhh…is this salad dressing?”
I do the whole process. I swirl. I sniff. I slowly sip. I let it hang out on the tongue. I make that little lip-smack-y noise like I’m searching for something profound. Nothing. Just the taste of regret and a little internal screaming. I even dumped out my last pour—and you know how I feel about wasting tequila. That’s basically sacrilege.
I don’t get it. I want to get it. But I’m lost. Like, “map upside down in the desert” lost.
Total bummer.
