Crafty Corner IV: Prickly Pear

A monthly series highlighting what’s on tap at Crafty Bastard Brewery

By Aaron McClain

I knocked on the front door of 718 Morgan St. and asked, “Are you going to use those? And if not, do you mind if I do?” I was greeted by a friendly woman who told me to take as much as I wanted.

It was 2012, and I had recently moved to 4th and Gill and noticed a large cactus across the street from my apartment that was producing a bounty of fruit. I was familiar with the prickly pear cactus and had seen quite a few specimens around East Tennessee, but I had never seen one with any ripe fruit on it – let alone one with enough to fill the 5-gallon bucket that I would take home that day.

I knew the plant itself was covered in spines, but I learned the hard way that day that so was the fruit. Nearly undetectable to the untrained eye, thousands of almost microscopic spines called glochids cover each fruit, wreaking havoc on unsuspecting hands. After tweezers, duct tape, Elmer’s glue and nearly every other remedy I could find on the internet had been tried, I finally found that nail clippers worked best to dig out the glochids because, while being annoying as hell, they did not penetrate the skin deeply. I considered banishing these demonic bastards to the compost pile until I did further research and found effective and relatively hand-friendly ways to remove the glochids from the rest of my harvest.

Once I was able to actually cut into the fruits without fear, I was disappointed to discover that they had an unusual texture and scads of tiny, tooth-shatteringly rigid seeds that made for cumbersome consumption at best. I was, however, captivated by their aroma and the almost otherworldly hue of juice that bled from them. It was a vibrant, almost iridescent shade of magenta with highlights of violet. All of my efforts had not been in vain!

I decided to make a simple syrup with these beauties for use in cocktails. In every application, it provided a visually stunning drink and a depth and complexity of flavor unparalleled by any other fruit I had used similarly. (The best I can describe it is as a blend of watermelon, cucumber and cherry with hints of Roma tomatoes fresh from the garden.) The obvious next step was to use these fruits in a beer. My first thought was a saison, and while I love experimentation and tinkering, sometimes the first instinct is correct. The lightly fruity and bubblegummy notes provided by saison yeast play magnificently with the unique blend of herbaceousness and watermelon rind provided by this intricate fruit.

Additionally, the effervescence and crisp, dry and mildly peppery finish typical of this style of beer supplies a perfect counterbalance that prevents the somewhat odd yet complementary mishmash of flavors from causing palate fatigue.

Over the years, we have used prickly pears in many different styles, including a white wine barrel-aged sour and a yearly IPA collaboration with Abridged Beer Co. They are definitely at home in those styles and have created magical libations on numerous occasions, but for a taste of the original application, make sure to swing by either of our locations (6 Emory Place or 9937 Kingston Pike) starting on Jan. 2 to sample this intriguing taste of East Tennessee flora and brewing innovation.