It is a hot summer day, something that has never held me back from practising my daily morning walk in my neighbourhood, though this time it does make me notice the unusual preparations among the small wooden carts that line the streets, with their owners starting to clean them earlier than usual.

They are waiting eagerly for supplies cars to pass so they can take their share of daily products and start their daily sales. The excitement is all the more palpable as this is the season of al-tein al-shouki (the prickly pear), and you can find a vendor of these on nearly every corner in Cairo. He just searches for the right spot under the shade of a tree and sets up, ready with his gloves, knife, dishes, and plastic wrap.

When he starts to move his cart from one corner to another, you can also hear his famous words, spoken in a loud voice – ya halawa ya hilw. The words are meant to draw attention to his merchandise of prickly pears, even if they do not include their name. Instead, the words are a brief description of how sweet they are. They resonate with all Egyptians, regardless of social background or neighbourhood, as marking the advent of the magical summer delicacy of the prickly pear.

This comes in three colours, red, yellow, and green, and it plays a key role in Egypt’s cultural identity. It’s not just a tasty fruit or an easy crop with a satisfying profit margin for vendors, something that can be easily seen by noting how people from across social classes and backgrounds often gather around a prickly pear cart, eager to taste the merchandise.

 As one vendor in Heliopolis commented when I asked him about his customers, “most Egyptians have a soft spot towards al-tein al-shouki, and my customers come from all socioeconomic backgrounds imaginable.”

During the season’s early days, which starts from early June and lasts until mid or late August, I saw a lot of green prickly pears on the cart of one vendor. When I asked him about them, he answered that “the green ones also have customers.” When I passed his cart the next day, I found a man probably in his sixties paying attention to the green pears and picking them up. As the vendor peeled them for him, he ate them quickly to counter the summer heat.

Just as this man was leaving, another approached the cart during the sweltering midday heat. A taxi driver parked his car in front of the cart, exiting in a rush and asking the vendor to peel a handful of pears for him. He took them in a plastic bag, lacking the time to wait for the vendor’s usual packaging as he had to rush back to his car.

On the other corner where I live, there is another vendor, Mahmoud, who occupied the same spot before the prickly pear season. In winter, he used to sell batata (sweet potatoes) and a bit later during the spring season he used to sell foul herati (green fava beans). He then started selling prickly pears from the beginning of the season, though he also has another cart for dora (corn), the regular white corncobs which are always available in the Egyptian market and now sell for LE10.

He also has sweet corn, being the yellow corn that is grilled and that has a sweeter taste and a softer texture than the white corn and sells for double the price.

I had a chat with Mahmoud about the demand this season, and he wasn’t happy. “Last year, the demand on the prickly pear was higher in spite of the fact that the fruit was more expensive. Now it is only a quarter of the demand of last year. The price range is LE3 to LE4 for one fruit according to quality. Last year, one fruit cost LE5, but even so I had a better season,” he said.

I have often wondered what vendors do with their leftovers at the end of the day. Mahmoud said that “I have to sell everything. If what is left is still green, I can keep it for the next day, but the rest will not be fresh. The fruit easily goes bad.”

Another vendor said that he sells three fruits for LE10. While the prickly pear has often been referred to as the “fruit of the poor,” today its price has drastically changed, and vendors sometimes receive negative reactions from some customers.

The price of one fruit varies around Cairo depending on its quality and the neighbourhood. In the city, prices range between LE3 and LE10, the maximum in New Cairo, while in rural areas prices range between LE3 and LE4. One fruit can cost LE50 on the North Coast beaches.

The prickly pear is the common name of this fruit, but it also has other names like the Indian fig opuntia, the Barbary fig, or the cactus pear. It is actually a species of cactus, which is why it has spikes on its skin. That is also why you may often see vendors watering the fruit every now and then to soften the skin in preparation to peel it off. Of course, they also need a sharp knife and good pair of gloves to protect their hands from the spikes.

The planting season for prickly pears takes place in two cycles: the autumn cycle that starts in September and goes on until October and November, and the spring cycle that starts in March and goes on until April and May with the harvest coming in June. Prickly pears have a short shelf life, maybe a day or two in most cases, though sometimes under good conditions this can last for eight or nine days.

The most popular crop is planted in locations like Ismailia, Beheira, and Minya Governorates. What makes prickly pears so popular is their easy cultivation – they do not require a specific type of soil and they consume very small amounts of water. They also do not need a lot of care or labour, and they require only minimal pesticides. In return, growing the pears can be a profitable investment, with the potential for LE100,000 per feddan in some cases.

Besides being a sweet and refreshing fruit, prickly pears also have amazing health benefits. They are rich in Vitamin C like most fruit, but they also help to regulate blood sugar levels, boost the immune system, and aid in the creation of white blood cells. They are anti-inflammatory and help in relieving arthritis. Prickly pears help with constipation, as they are high in fibre and low in calories.

During a recent family gathering, Ziad grabbed a few chilled prickly pears from the table. He admitted he did not like them before, but recently he has developed a taste for them, even if he likes them in the form of juice, more often.  

I concluded my journey with the prickly pear this year by meeting a young woman with her two children while I was buying some for my family. The young woman together with her son and daughter were approaching the vendor’s cart, and she seemed familiar with the vendor. She asked him to pack her three to four packages of prickly pears, she looked excited about them, as did her children, who were negotiating for even more.

In a brief conversation, she told me how much she enjoys prickly pears, saying that she was particularly looking forward to having a large quantity in the refrigerator for after lunch. Another woman then approached and was quite particular about the colour of the pears she needed, explaining that she likes to use them to make homemade cheesecake.

---

* A version of this article appears in print in the 22 August, 2024 edition of Al-Ahram Weekly