A desert plant that Indian farmers once dismissed as a “stubborn, valueless weed” is now driving a new drinks industry – earning itself the nickname “blue gold”.
For generations, the agave americana cactus was planted as fencing to keep wild animals off crops. But in 2010, traders approached Masapalli Venkatesh, a farmer on the Deccan Plateau in southern India, looking for a very different use for the plant. Venkatesh, who grows tomatoes, peanuts and corn on his 10-acre farm in Kandukur, now coordinates a network of villagers and farmers across a 100km radius, combining yields to supply distilleries that are willing to pay a premium.
“A desert weed once used as fencing in India is now being harvested for a booming agave spirits industry.”
Agave is the plant that feeds the $15bn (£11bn) global market for tequila and mezcal. In Mexico, blue agave is farmed in the state of Jalisco, where only plants from select areas can be used for tequila. Unlike in Mexico, nobody grows agave commercially in India – at least not yet. Instead, farmers and entrepreneurs collect and process the wild agave that grows across states like Karnataka, Maharashtra, Rajasthan and Andhra Pradesh.
Harvesting the plant is a skilled job. The most important part is the heart, known as the piña because it resembles a giant pineapple. Workers chop off the spiky leaves to reveal it, but timing is critical. Once the plant decides to bloom, it channels its entire sugar reserve into the stalk in a matter of days. If the flower blooms, the sugar is completely depleted and the piña becomes useless for alcohol production.
“Gatherers must accurately identify the exact pre-blooming window to harvest the plant at its absolute peak sugar capacity, making the timing of the harvest incredibly narrow,” says Rakshay Dhariwal, founder of the distiller Maya Pistola Agavepura.
Once harvested, the clock starts ticking. The piñas must reach a pressure cooker within 24 hours, where the sugars can be extracted. “Any transport delay can risk ruining the batch. If it takes longer than 24 hours, the internal sugars begin to rot and ferment unpredictably, destroying the delicate flavour profile needed for premium spirits,” says Dhariwal. Transportation is not straightforward, as agave suppliers are scattered across vast distances. “Brands like us cannot simply order from a centralized farming cooperative. We rely on networks of local aggregators to scout, negotiate for, and harvest individual patches of semi-wild agave,” he adds.
For Venkatesh, what was once a useless weed has become a welcome source of extra income. “By combining the yields of multiple farms, I ensure a steady, high-volume supply that distilleries are willing to pay a premium for,” he says.