I’m not much of a drinker; just the smell of alcohol gets me nauseous. Maybe that’s a blessing, maybe it’s a curse (our French relatives think so), but I’ve come to accept that most days I’ll retain my complete mental faculties.
On Purim, however, I try becoming “spiced,” the Talmud’s colloquialism for the day’s mitzvah to get “under the influence.” Yet many years I haven’t even managed to drink a cup of wine before the nauseating aromas finished me off.
Several Purims ago, a beloved brother-in-law brought some tequila to the Purim feast, and suggested downing shots with a pinch of salt. That combination made things manageable: not enough to get hooked on the potent potion, but at least once a year I have a pathway to the realm beyond reason.
Given this background, I had a good laugh when I happened upon these two agave plants, the not-exactly-cactus that tequila is made from (don’t ask me how), right behind Bait Natif, the hill right next to Ramat Bet Shemesh where I often guide foraging walks. Every day when these agaves wake up they peer down on the Elah Valley where David fought Goliath some 2800 years ago.
Want to join a foraging walk there? Tomorrow morning, Shushan Purim, May 25, we’ll be heading up from 11am-1pm for an incredible foraging experience, although we probably won’t make it quite to the agaves. For more details and to register, respond to this email or contact me with the info in this flyer.
I Found the Thing They Make Tequila From