Unveiling Mexico’s Sweet Secret: The Endangered Cactus at Its Heart

Preserving Mexico’s Endangered Cacti: A Cultural Dilemma

MEXICO CITY – Despite legal restrictions, the vibrant Merced market in Mexico City is filled with stalls offering acitrón, a sugary treat made from the endangered barrel cactus.

These sweet bars resemble lemon squares but are crafted from cactus pieces soaked in sugar until they crystallize. Edith Hernández Torres, a local vendor, wraps her acitrón in cellophane, claiming its unique taste surpasses that of candied lemon, sweet potato, or pineapple.

“It has a chewy texture,” she explains, “like something roasted.”

The Ban on Acitrón

In the early 2000s, the Mexican government prohibited the sale of acitrón to protect the biznaga cactus from extinction due to overharvesting. Yet, Hernández continues to sell it, driven by customer demand.

When questioned about selling an endangered product, she responds, “Our whole planet is going extinct.”

A Tradition Worth Preserving

María Julia Gutiette, a customer, carefully selects a bar of acitrón as if it were a precious gem. Her husband shares a birthday with Mexico’s Independence Day, September 16, prompting her to prepare chiles en nogada annually, a dish that requires acitrón among other ingredients.

“Traditions are the essence of life,” she says, her eyes glistening with emotion. “They add that special touch to our existence.”

The Slow Growth of Cacti

At the National Autonomous University of Mexico’s botanical garden, a section is devoted to barrel cacti, which have been significant in Mexican culture long before sugar was introduced. Salvador Arias, a biologist, highlights the slow growth of these cacti, making cultivation impractical.

“These cacti don’t grow like grass,” Arias notes. “Their metabolism is so slow they might grow only millimeters a year.”

Adapting Traditions for Conservation

Chef Ricardo Muñoz Zurita of Azul restaurant has chosen not to use acitrón in his renowned chiles en nogada. Instead, he opts for candied chilacayote, a type of squash, which doesn’t alter the dish’s flavor.

“This dish embodies the spirit of Mexico,” Muñoz declares. “It tastes like our heritage, like independence.”

Muñoz believes in adapting traditions to ensure the survival of the barrel cactus, emphasizing, “We humans have the great power of adaptation.”