On a hillside in the backlands of Oaxaca, where mezcal begins, I can hear the machete singing. Aniceto Garcia, maestro mezcalero, is ahead of me, treading up the mountain like generations of mezcaleros before him. At one point, I scramble up the wrong goat trail and find myself at a confrontation of shale, cactus, and a snarl of branches. After doubling back and crossing a rough tunnel hacked through the brush, I eventually find Aniceto cutting a maguey—an agave plant—down to its heart. He shaves away the pencas, the broad, fanged leaves of the tepextate, a wild variety that prefers to wind its roots into the cracks between stones in the Oaxacan desert. Each swipe of the machete reveals more of the plant’s white heart—about the size of a beach ball, and called a piña for its likeness to a pineapple.

via The Century Plant and Its Many Grandfathers | Lucky Peach.