Prickly pears at the SoPas market
My grandparents used to have a prickly pear cactus. And on a few occasions, me and my cousins would grab a ripe fruit off a paddle and begin to stian our mouths, our hands, our shirts, our shoes, and our books (after school and all) a vivid and stubborn pink. The flesh inside a prickly pear is vibrant and juicy. But it’s also jam packed with seeds. So when you eat them out of hand, it’s a whole lot of graceless chomping and spitting.
My mom probably would have been less mad if we just opted for a candy bar. But they were really good. So when I spied them at the SoPas market this week, I couldn’t resist.
These above are ok. I remember a sugary bright fruity flavor from my youth. These seemed more mealy and less sweet. But the basic foundation flavor was there. Alsom the mess was relegated to the cutting board and the sink. Though a better shot would have been of pink-stained hands and mouth. 🙂