An unabridged guide to making Paletas de Tuna

The prickly pear cactus is ubiquitous in south Texas.  In the spring time the cacti produce big beautiful yellow blossoms, by June the blossoms have dropped and what's left behind is a green inverted pear shaped fruit.  By late summer these fruits have turned a deep reddish purple color and are ready for picking.    I vaguely remember eating them as a kid when out hunting and fishing with my dad, but can't say the flavor stuck with me.  One day about 10 years ago, I gathered a few of the fruit, and gave them a try.   The texture is nearly identical to that of a kiwi, but the center of the fruit is filled with small, hard, inedible seeds.  And by center I mean like 70% of the total volume of the fruit.  They were a little bitter...really they didn't taste like much.  I then and made a puree out of them and strained out the seeds.  It needed quite a bit of sweetening, but once I got the blend right, I was hooked on the taste.  When they are good, it tastes like a bouquet of wild flowers with a hint of watermelon.  Perfect for fruity mixed drinks and margaritas, but I tried freezing some and found the prickly pear's true purpose in life.  Paletas.  Not an original idea mind you.  In interior Mexico, Paletas de Tuna can be found at many Paletarias, but good luck finding one in the US.  Even in the barrio they are pretty much impossible to find here.  Making them myself has become a semi-annual summer tradition.

This past weekend, I  was driving north on I-35, and halfway between Laredo and San Antonio I spotted a bunch of cacti on public land, chock full of ripe tunas, so I brought the family truckster to a screeching halt, and jumped out of the car.  The scrub by the highway was pretty thick stuff, but I plunged in anyway.  Keeping a watchful eye out for rattlesnakes and chupacabras which are literally behind every bush down here, I gingerly picked a couple of dozen of the egg sized fruits.  Since I had no gloves, I knew I would be picking tiny cactus needles out of my fingers for several days, but it should be worth it.

The first step to transforming these into paletas is to peel them.  The best way I have found to do this is to stand the tuna on end.  The top of the fruit is nice and flat and makes a good stable base.  Then using a paring knife, carefully slice off thin strips of skin while rotating the fruit.  You can use a small bamboo skewer to hold it if you're really worried about the spines, but since your hands are probably full of spines already, it will probably be quicker to just your hands.

Once the sides are done, turn the fruit on it's side and cut off the bottom, then take a little off the top.

Repeat with the remaining fruit.  Once they are all peeled, toss them into a food processor, and blend into a relatively smooth puree.  It won't be completely smooth, since it is full of seeds.

Pour the puree into a mesh strainer set over a medium sized bowl.  Work the puree through the strainer using the back of a spoon.

This part is really the biggest pain in the butt, and takes quite a while.  When you're done, you'll be left with a thick paste of seeds and pulp, and will have several cups of crimson cactus pear juice.

You will be dying to taste the luscious looking juice.  Go ahead.  It's probably pretty bitter, and you'll probably be wondering why the hell you just went through all that trouble.  Never fear, we are not nearly done yet.  It's time to sweeten it up.  You will need at least 1/3 cup of sugar for every cup of juice, and perhaps a little more.  The amount of sugar you add will affect how the popsicles set up.  The more sugar the softer the texture of the finished product, so don't over do it.  I've done it so many times I just eye ball it.

Whisk in the sugar until completely dissolved.  Then add 1/4 to 1/3 cup of lime juice and a pinch of salt. Whisk again, and start tasting.  You can add a bit more sugar or a bit more lime, to suit your taste.   Just be sure to whisk the mix to thoroughly dissolve the sugar after each addition.

At this point you have a fine looking and hopefully tasty batch of prickly pear syrup.  You can use as is in mixed drinks.  They make delicious margaritas.  You could whisk in a few tablespoons of tequila, pour this mix into an ice cream freezer to make a prickly pear sorbet.  But that's not why we are here.  So break out your fancy pants William Sonoma popsicle mold, and fill'er up.

Slap on the lid, and insert the sticks.

Freeze for at least 24 hours.  Un-mold and enjoy.

A note about spines.

The cactus fruits are covered with small clusters of tiny little spines.  They don't hurt much going in, but they are annoying.  If you don't have gloves when picking the fruit, you will get tons of these suckers in your hands in spite of your efforts to avoid them.  You can pick them out one by one with tweezers, but it will take a while.  I find taking a long bath, or going for a swim works wonders.  The first thing I did when I got home from picking these was to head to the pool to swim laps. After 45 minutes in the water, the spines were essentially gone.  I guess the water softens up your skin and opens your pores enough that the spines drop off.

And so it begins.

So after years of prodding from foodie friends, I have decided to start a food blog.  I thought I would focus on some of the more involved cooking projects I take on, and decided to call the blog, Will Work For Food, since the majority of the things I plan on discussing will involve some effort.  However, I found that name to be REALLY unoriginal and consequently, unavailable.  Next I thought, okay, how about Food Porn, a term I'm fond of.  No dice, taken.  How about A Pinch of This?  Nope.  For f***s sake.  How many food blogs are there?  I remembered the first time my sister and I tried to get a recipe for flour tortillas from friends and relatives down in Laredo.  Pretty much every conversation about it went the same way...

"You take some flour, salt, lard, and water, and you make a dough..."
"Okay, how much of each?"
"Al tanteo honey"

"Al tanteo" literally means "by estimate", but what it really meant in this context was, "you feel it" or "you'll know when it's right".  Really?  I'll know when it's right?   Seems unlikely given that I have NEVER made flour tortillas before and am asking you for the recipe.

Al Tanteo.  Sounds like a perfect blog name...  Donkey balls!  It's taken too.

So what I finally settled on is Turducken Was My Everest.   And it kinda was.   I made one about 12 years ago.  I followed the Paul Prudhomme recipe to the letter, with three different stuffings in each of the three birds, home made turkey stock, everything from scratch right down to the cornbread that went into the cornbread dressing.  It took me the better part of 3 days, and it was awesome.  My family has asked me to do it again, and that has been my response ever since.  It was my Everest, and now that I have climbed it and survived, I don't really want to be doing that again.

So stay tuned.  I don't think my posts will be that frequent, but when the do come the should be informative, and hopefully mildly amusing.  Next up will be a posting on making Paletas de Tuna, or Prickly Pear Cactus Popsicles for you gringos.