prickly pear picking, part II

Cognitive Daily summarized research indicating that alliteration enhances memory. So "she sells sea shells by the sea shore" is easier to recall, than, say, e.e. cummings, "it is at moments after i have dreamed" or Emily Dickenson's "A narrow fellow in the grass."

With that in mind, I am hoping my readers haven't forgotten my post way back when on plans to pick prickly pears.

Pick them I did on the trail above. And two days later, no, two weeks later, I was still picking. Prickles. From my fingers. (You knew this was coming). And my hand. Especially that soft, fleshy area at the base of my thumb. And other parts of my anatomy I'd rather not put out there in the public domain. Those little bastards were turning up everywhere. So I will begin in order of necessity.

My list for post prickly pear picking:

1. a good pair of tweezers
2. a pair of high magnification reading glasses for seeing and grabbing those little skin sticking suckers.

I was given advice to wear thick gloves. I did, my first trip. Bad idea. My suggestion - make it your goal to have no hand-to-pear contact. Gloves or no.

Here's my experience tested prickly pear picking supply list:

1. a pair of metal tongs

2. a bucket

3. a metal or otherwise hard, flat cutting surface (I used a cookie sheet)

4. a knife to cut the pear open lengthwise

5. a thin edged spoon to scoop out the seeds and fleshy pulp

6. a strainer of some kind

7. teenager with a strong back and a penchant for mashing

I used a colander for jelly straining. Or, well, my able bodied teenage assistant did.

I also used a simple metal strainer, squooshing the seeds and pulp with a spoon.

Wooden cutting boards? Another bad idea. They capture and spread the prickles around. Unless you are cultivating a passive-aggressive plan to get even with your spouse or harbor a masochistic desire to hear him grouse about stickers in his hands for weeks afterward, do not lay your prickly pears on a wooden surface, like so:

That's a picture of my kitchen island. It has a cutting board top. Kitchen-central at our house, we wheel it around and use it for everything: food prep, dinner plate set up, homework checking. Burrowed down in the wood, those little prickly suckers enjoy an effective half-life of for-focking-ever. Take my word for it.

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I did follow Rachel's advice on freezing the pods. I now have a dedicated bucket in my freezer. Can take out two or three at a time as (my blood alcohol level wanes) needed.

Burning the prickles off before handling works well, too. I heard of this method from two sources. The first was a friend who, years ago, was in the Peace Corps in Senegal. She recalled native children bringing her cactus bulb prepared this way. The second source was my mother-in-law who grew up in the Texas Hill Country. During drought conditions, she and her siblings (all nine of them) used to burn the prickles off the cactus in small bonfires and feed them to their livestock.

So I tried the burning method. With my tongs, I held a pear above my gas burner flame. Spore by spore they lit up in teeny little sparkles and burnt away. Worked great. A bit time consuming but made for easier handling later. Which, a few margaritas into the project, was appreciated.

So back to the fruit I picked. Or, the fruit of my efforts: a deliciously dark fuscia pink margarita, which, prickles not withstanding, was damned worth it!

And not a bad way to toast our new President-elect!

Cheers!

How will you all be celebrating this wonderful weekend in November?