The Allure of Acitrón: A Forbidden Treat in Mexico City
In Mexico City, at the bustling Merced market, you’ll find a strange treat called acitrón. It looks like a sweet lemon bar, but it’s made from the barrel cactus. These cactus pieces are immersed in sugar until they become crystalized. Despite being illegal, this delicacy is everywhere, tempting many with its unique flavor.
Edith Hernández Torres, a vendor, shares how special acitrón tastes. “It’s chewy, almost like something roasted,” she says, emphasizing that it’s unlike other sweets like candied lemons or sweet potatoes.
The Mexican government outlawed acitrón in the early 2000s. At that time, they discovered the biznaga cactus was endangered because of overharvesting. Many people, like Hernández, understand the implications but continue to sell it due to high demand. When asked if she feels guilty, she shrugs and reflects, “Our whole planet is going extinct.”
Buyers like María Julia Gutiette cherish acitrón as part of their family traditions. For her, it’s essential for making chiles en nogada, a famous Mexican dish enjoyed during festivals. “Traditions are the salt and pepper of life,” she says, eyes glistening with emotion.
The biznaga cactus, which acitrón comes from, holds historical significance too. It was revered by the Aztecs and has been a part of Mexican culture long before Spanish colonization. Salvador Arias, a biologist, notes that Mexico has over 150 species of biznaga, but many face extinction. Cacti don’t grow quickly, making them vulnerable. “They might grow only a few millimeters each year,” Arias explains, highlighting the delicate nature of their survival.
Chiles en nogada itself is more than a dish; it’s a symbol of Mexican identity, often served with a walnut cream sauce and garnished with pomegranate seeds. Chef Ricardo Muñoz Zurita, known for his exceptional rendition, acknowledges the tradition but has opted not to include acitrón in his recipes for the sake of preservation.
His dishes evoke a deep sense of national pride, echoing the sentiments of independence. “This plate is the soul of Mexico,” he declares, reinforcing how food can connect to cultural heritage and historical narratives.
As conversations around sustainability grow, the dilemma continues. While many remember the nostalgic taste of acitrón, others advocate for the conservation of endangered species. The future will depend on how well society balances tradition with environmental responsibility.
If you’re curious about the impact of such delicacies and the implications of using endangered ingredients, it’s worth exploring reputable sources like the National Park Service’s report on endangered species.
In short, acitrón represents more than just a treat; it embodies the complex interplay of culture, ecology, and ethics within modern Mexican life.