As the spring rains taper off and wildflowers coat the hills, Jamila gets up well before dawn. Quietly, furtively, carrying pails, burly jute sacks and scythe-like knives, she and a few friends climb into a rented minivan and the driver takes them out to the fields surrounding Arrabe, her village in the central Galilee.

By sunrise, Jamila, 66, is scrambling across the hills and climbing down into the deep wadis foraging for aqub, a small, artichoke-like local delicacy. Deftly, she cuts the head off from the thorny purplish stem. By mid-morning on a good day, she will have picked as much as 10 kilograms (22 pounds). Back at home, neighbors will come to her door paying as much as 50 shekels ($14) a kilo if she has invested the intense work necessary to strip off the thorns and clean them and 15 shekels a kilo ($4) if she sells it as is.

Aqub tastes somewhat like a cross between kohlrabi and asparagus, a taste that is clearly enhanced by identity and tradition. The plant has been foraged and eaten in this region since ancient times. Today, Palestinians serve it fried, with lemon juice and tahini, or in stews. According to local lore, it has all sorts of nutritional value, from increased immunity against disease to heightened sexual prowess. Arrabe, Jamila’s village, is particularly known for the high quality of the aqub that grows nearby. Arrabe is also known for having the largest percentage of medical doctors and other professionals of any Arab village in Israel. Locals quip that it's “because they eat so much from a very young age.”

According to Israeli law, however, aqub (known as gundelia in English and scientifically as gundelia tournefortii) is a protected plant and picking it is a criminal offense, punishable by fines and up to three years’ imprisonment. Inspectors from the National Nature and Parks Authority have already caught and fined Jamila several times this season, which is why, she explains, she does not want to give her full name.