Growing up in Durango, Mexico, Nadia Casaperalta recalls feasting on the fruit of the prickly pear cactus, known as tuna, until she was bloated from the seeds. Despite any digestive distress caused by her enthusiastic overconsumption, the culinary educator at South Texas College in McAllen says, “It’s honestly one of my favorite memories, even though I’d get scolded every time.”
Now based in Elsa, Casaperalta’s career has been influenced by those childhood trips to her relatives’ farm in Los Lirios, and the wild edible treasures to be found there. She would harvest nopales and mulberries, and drink aguamiel—the sap of the Mexican maguey plant. But come summer it was all about the tuna, which her family would both pick themselves and purchase from local roadside vendors.
“Prickly pears grow everywhere along the border and in the Rio Grande Valley,” Casaperalta says. “They’re part of the identity of the region.”
There are more than 100 species of prickly pear cactus in Texas alone. A staple for the Indigenous peoples of the region for centuries, the plant was used for everything from food to medicine, tools, and dye. So significant is the prickly pear’s role in Texas history and culture, the cactus was designated the state plant in 1995.
For San Antonio-based food writer and chef Adán Medrano, the tuna was one of the main staples of his ancestors, the Coahuiltecans—a tribe that lived in South Texas and northeastern Mexico. During the spring and summer, Native peoples ate tuna almost exclusively because the fruit is high in vitamins B and C, potassium, calcium, polyphenols, carotenoids, antioxidants, and electrolytes.
“The first Spanish written record of the Texas region by Cabeza de Vaca describes the harvesting, consumption, and trading of tuna as an important practice that formed bonds within the community as well as with neighboring tribes,” Medrano says. “In the RGV there are in-ground mortars where the tuna was mashed with wooden pestles and used in drinks.”
Depending on ripeness and species, cactus tuna can be white, green, yellow, orange, magenta, or purple. The sweet pinkish fruit tastes like a cross between watermelon, raspberry, and bubble gum, while the white and green varieties are tangy and sour. No matter if it’s the green Opuntia joconostle or the rosy Opuntia engelmannii—the most prevalent prickly pear in South Texas—its fruit is synonymous with elevating all manner of beverages. For instance, the neon pink prickly pear margarita at Starlight Theatre Restaurant and Saloon in Terlingua has become a hallowed Texas cocktail.
Aransas Pass-based cookbook author Vianney Rodriguez says that libation legacy goes back even further in her hometown of Brownsville. She recalls her grandmother utilizing the pink tuna in aguas frescas, tea, and the creamy, masa-based atole. In her own kitchen, Rodriguez cooks the green ones down with a bit of sugar and lime to punch up mezcal and tequila. “Tuna are so versatile,” she says. “I love my heritage and feel honored to live in a part of Texas where our Indigenous foods are so revered.”
Tuna Treasures
Texas products taking advantage of the bright flavor of cactus
Syrup
Brushfire Farms’ prickly pear simple syrup is made with South Texas fruit. Use it to perk up cocktails or seltzer water, in vinaigrettes, or drizzled atop waffles, pancakes, and pound cake. brushfirefarms.com
Jerky
Non-GMO soybeans get a hit of sweet heat and smoke in All Y’alls Foods’ vegan jerky, in flavors like prickly pear-teriyaki.
allyallsfoods.com
Jelly
Pinche Cactus Ranch in Rocksprings produces a rosy-hued jelly perfect for slathering on English muffins, biscuits, or toast. pcrjellies.com
Spirits
Cheers to a lovely blush-toned prickly pear vodka from Western Son Distillery in Pilot Point. Lightly floral, with notes of strawberry and melon, it’s the perfect sip for the dog days of summer. westernsondistillery.com