On the third day of Passover last year, I went to visit a pair of Jewish tequila makers in Mexico. I had been eager to meet Daniel Schneeweiss Bernstein and Moises Guindi ever since I first heard about Milagro, their premium tequila. So I jumped at the chance to visit their agave fields and distillery in Jalisco.

It quickly became apparent that these tequila makers were unusual. While some tequila makers buy blue agave from a farmer, Danny and Moy – as my traveling companions and I came to know them – select and grow their own.

In order to meet the government standards to bear the label tequila, the spirit must be made with blue agave grown in Jalis co. (Liquor from other agave plants is mescal.) While some farmers plant agave once every seven years and wait for it to mature, resulting in surpluses alternating with shortages, Danny and Moy plant new plants every year, so there is always a crop maturing. Some tequila makers cut the pina – the heart of the agave plant – by machine and pressure cook or boil it. But at Milagro, workers chop the long, solid blue green leaves away by hand with machetes and brute force to uncover the core (it looks like a giant pineapple) and then slow roast it in a clay ovens – an old-fashioned, labor- and time-intensive technique that allows the sugars to concentrate and caramelize, giving the final product a rich flavor.

The sweet, roasted pina is then mashed and squeezed until it has released all its juices. At Milagro’s distillery, this agave honey (aguimel) is triple distilled. The result of this attention to detail is clean, crisp, complex blanco tequila without the impurities that can lead to unpleasant flavors – and hangovers. The blanco (silver) tequila then becomes the basis for the reposado (aged two months in oak), or anejo, which is aged in government sealed oak barrels for at least a year, though Milagro tequila is aged longer than most.

And why else is this tequila different than all other tequilas? It’s certified kosher. While tequila by nature doesn’t contain anything to make it not kosher, Danny and Moy decided to go the extra step for kosher certification, to demonstrate that their ingredients, as well as the factory, are clean and comply with kosher rules.

The local market for kosher tequila is not as small as one might expect. An estimated 50,000 Jews live in Mexico, and approximately 30,000 of those are in Mexico City. Meeting Moy and Danny made me wonder how Jews in Mexico celebrate Passover.

Jews in Mexico City have similar traditions to Jews in New York. “Basically, Mexican Jews celebrate Passover according to their own traditions,” Mr. Schneeweiss Bernstein said. “Jews that came from Europe do it the Ashkenazi way, and Jews coming from Arab countries do it according to the Arab Jewish tradition.” His family seder will feature traditional European Jewish foods: brisket, matzo ball soup, and potato kugel, and they’ll refrain from eating bread and other leavened foods during the weeklong holiday. A family with a Sephardic background might eat a lamb tagine and haroset made with dried apricots and pears instead of apples and walnuts.

But do they ever drink four glasses of tequila instead of wine at a seder? “Not at all,” Mr. Schneeweiss Bernstein said. “But it’s a great idea that I might try this year.”

In New York City, the Mexican Passover tradition seems to be inspired by New Yorkers, rather than by Mexican traditions. Mexican chefs offer creative, Mexican-inflected Passover menus to appeal to their Passover-observing clientele, generally using traditional European Passover dishes as their point of departure.

At Zocalo (174 E. 82nd St., between Third and Lexington avenues, 212-717-7772), chef Julian Medina begins with traditional recipes such as brisket and smoked fish and then adds a Mexican kick. Today through Sunday, he’ll offer specials such as an appetizer of matzo ball soup with jalapeno, cilantro, and epazote for flavor and color, garnished with zucchini flowers and chipotle-braised brisket tacos in matzo tortillas with avocado salsa. He makes the matzo tortillas with matzo flour that he grinds until fine in two versions, crispy or soft. Instead of corn chips, diners dip matzo in their guacamole dip. In addition to kosher tequila, guests also can complete their obligation with four glasses of kosher wine from Israel.

Rosa Mexicano (1063 First Ave. at 58th Street, 212-753-7407; 61 Columbus Ave. at 62nd Street, 212-977-7700; 9 E. 18th St., between Fifth Avenue and Broadway, 212-533-3350) has been serving “Mexicanized” Passover dishes for the past four years to satisfy its largely Jewish clientele. Each year, chef Roberto Santibanez offers creative takes on traditional Jewish dishes. Just like “a third-generation Mexican Jew for whom grandma’s gefilte fish doesn’t cut it anymore,” Mr. Santibanez says he adds zest and spice to create something new. For example, he adds chiles to chicken broth to make a Mexican-style matzo ball soup.

“Our Jewish Mexican friends like to eat chopped chicken livers with guacamole,” he said. From tomorrow to Saturday, Rosa Mexicano offers its own version of that dish: Higadito de Pollo para Tacos, housemade chopped liver topped with scallions and chicken cracklings with salsa verde and chopped egg. “The chopped liver is made completely traditional, and then we add Mexican surroundings,” Mr. Santibanez said. Other specials are Pollo Rostizado, roasted half chicken marinated in lime, oregano, and puya chiles, served over braised cabbage and apples with cilantro latkes, and Chuleta de Pavo, grilled turkey chop stuffed with huitlacoche and wild mushrooms, served with roasted root vegetables and pomegranate sauce.

Dos Caminos (373 Park Avenue South, between 26th and 27th streets, 212-294-1000) serves Mexican flavored brisket and chopped liver with poblano chiles during Passover. The restaurant also offers guacamole with spiced matzo chips and for dessert, matzo crepes with roasted apples and raisins.

It’s enough to make you say, “Next year in Mexico!”