The Prickly Pear fruit. Insert expletives where required.
Also known as ‘Opuntial’, or ‘Tuna’ (no relation to the fish), or as I have christened it: ‘Bastard Fruit’.
This is not a commentary on the parentage of said fruit, but rather it relates to one of the milder words that I employed upon being spiked by yet another of the thorns that cover it’s skin.
‘Call that a cactus? That’s just a peach with notions about itself’ I might have been thinking, shortly before the first lethal little spine ingratiated itself into one of my fingers. While they look like no more than wispy little hairs, in fact the spines are extremely uncomfortable once they are embedded in a finger, and you try to use the finger for any of it’s regular tasks.
And you need the eyesight of a hawk to try and tweezer the things out once they’re in. I’ve still got one in each of my index and ring fingers on my left hand as I write this. I suppose that as the years pass, I shall learn to adapt accordingly.
Unfortunately, when they are finally de-skinned and blended up with some ice, a teaspoon of brown sugar and a few ice cubes, these pears actually make a pretty delicious juice.
The prickly pears are also good for you – once you get past their formidable defences. They are said to cure hangovers (doubtful that a hungover person could negotiate peeling one of these, but hey…), and are also reputed to relieve stress. They are packed with Vitamin C and are supposed to be great at helping endurance athletes as a recovery drink. So I guess they’re not all bad.
Apparently you couldn’t sell these things in Malta in the past, for the simple reason that they grew everywhere. You can still pick a prickly pear today from a roadside cactus, if you are feeling brave enough, and if you can find one.
I will probably look for the ready-made version of the juice instead.
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