A Prickly Species Makes for Delicious Delicacies

Perched defiantly atop a cactus rests a golden eagle with a snake in its mouth. Depicted on the coat of arms on the Mexican flag, if you look closely, that’s not just any cactus.

Meet the prickly pear cacti, which according to the Tijuana Estuary's Research Coordinator Jeff Crooks, can be found in estuary's upland habitats and more particularly in the maritime succulent scrub out of reach of salt water.

This thorny visage has been a symbol of strength over adversity in Mexico since the early 19th century. 

And its tasty tuna, shouldn't be confused with the saltwater fish. Tuna is a Spanish name for the prickly pear’s iconic, neon fruit.

Ranging from red to green and shaped like stubby cucumbers, they are used to make candy, jelly, syrup, juice and even alcohol. Some say it tastes like watermelon. (I think it tastes kind of like bubble gum.)

That’s not the only delicious delicacy the prickly pear has to offer. Cacti have evolved to withstand extremely dry, hot conditions. So out with leaves and stems and in with spines and pads. The beaver tail-shaped pad of the prickly pear is also edible, and called nopales.

Annually, the edible cactus industry is worth more than $100 million in Mexico. That equates to a lot of cactus munching and a lot of worried people when news sources reported a hungry moth may have made its way to Cancun.  

But depending on who you ask and where, the cactus moth can be depicted as a butterfly-like savior or an antennae’d demon.

Native to South America, the insect feeds on the prickly pear family. Which is great if you live in Australia and terrible if you live in Mexico City.

More than 100,000 square miles of good, Australian farming land were coated with invasive prickly pear cacti. Called “the green hell,” farmers were so happy to see the cactus moth practically eradicate the spiky species that they built the insect a memorial hall in Chinchilla.

Move to the other side of the world and ask a Mexican farmer what he thinks about the cactus moth and you will invariably get a much different response. Approximately 10,000 farmers work with prickly pear cacti in the country, so to say the moth is an uninvited guest would be an understatement.

While there have been no serious outbreaks, the moth has been discovered in Florida, Mississippi and Louisiana, and has slowly been moving westward despite attempts to control populations.

Luckily, the estuary is far from Louisiana and the indigenous prickly pear cactus population is quite healthy, and can be seen bearing fruit this time of year but you better hurry – the birds won’t wait for you.