Pickled Green Almonds and Salted Green Almonds

For the most part, I like growing nut trees.  They're easy to care for and pretty do what they are supposed to do without much help from me.   They aren't 'foraged food', but there is a certain aspect of 'vintage food' in them.  Fortunately, I have several sweet almond trees in my yard.  Unfortunately, I've never eaten a ripe almond from them.  Why?  Squirrels.  By the time the almonds are ripe, there aren't any left.

The almond trees are located farther away from the house from my other nut trees.  Farther away from the dogs normal patrol route.  So the squirrels steal with impunity.  They will clean out my tree, and do a better job than any mechanical harvester can do.  When I walked near the tree, a squirrel would sit in the branches, a green nut clamped in his paws and bark at me.

And even though I routinely remove squirrels from the population, within a day or two, another replacement moves in to take over the territory.

I was talking to a neighbor early one spring, and he surprised me by reaching up and picking a fuzzy green almond and popping it into his mouth.  When I expressed a 'blink-blink' reaction, he told me that in his culture (he's Palestinian), green almonds are a treat.

So, I tried one.   It was crunchy and fuzzy and bland.  The drupe inside (what grows up to be what we call the 'nut') hadn't formed yet and there was a sort of clear jelly in it's place.   It was not unpleasant, but at the same time it wasn't entirely pleasant, either.   'Salt', my neighbor said, 'They are better with salt'.  So I ran up to the house and brought a shaker of sea salt back to the tree.  Frankly, I didn't think the salt made much difference.  It was still just a crunchy, fuzzy green thing.  I suppose it's one of those things that you just have to be raised with to appreciate.

I was disappointed because I hoped to find something to do with my almonds prior to their being devoured by the squirrels.

Then I noticed everyone doing things with unripe black walnuts.  Pascal pickles green black walnuts and Hank makes nocino (a liqueur made from the unripe walnuts), and I wondered 'What can I do the with green almonds?'

My first experiment pickling them, didn't go well.  I soaked them same way green walnuts are soaked for a couple of weeks. It just didn't work. I suppose because the green almonds don't have the load of tannins that the walnuts do.

So then I just pickled them like I would any vegetable.  I tried a batch with sweet spices (rice vinegar, cinnamon, cloves and the like) and a more savory blend (white vinegar, chilis, bay and garlic).   Both were a hit.  The fuzz disappears, the crunch gets a bit softer.  They pair nicely with a good cheese and a cracker or in an antipasto. 

You lose, Squirrels.

Hard Manzaita Cider!

Right now, manzanita berries are ripe.  I wanted to make a hard cider out of them and with out more than one try I ended up with a light, refreshing hard manzanita cider with an alcohol content of about 3.0.  Not many of my kitchen experiments go all that easy and turn out this goo on the first try, and I have to chalk it up to the hard apple cider that I wrote about in an earlier blog.
Hard apple cider (HAC) begins with a simple starter that is made from an apple and apple juice.  That's it.  It's one of the easiest things to do in the kitchen.
I've been using that starter in a lot of things such as the pineapple chicha from an earlier blog.  For a lot of my fermented recipes, it's taking the place of salt and whey.  And it made this foray into hard manzanita cider really simple.

Manzanita berries:

I've made mancanita cider before (using Hank Shaw's recipe:  http://honest-food.net/2010/08/22/manzanita-cider/) so I started with that, tweaking it slightly.
Mixe 2 cups of sugar with 10 cups of water, bring it to a boil and pour it over 4 cups of cleaned manzanita berries.   Let it sit about 20 minutes and mash it up with a potato masher.  No need to kill yourself mashing on this step.  The idea is just to crack open most of the berries so that they can infuse more efficiently.   Let it the mess sit overnight and then strain it.
Pour your cider into a carboy and add 1 cup of the HAC starter.  (See the blog on Hard Apple Cider for directions.  Remember the starter needs to made several days in advance of using it, so that it's all filled with bubbly goodness).
Slip on an airlock, or a balloon or whatever set up you use and leave it alone for a few days.  # days if you like it sweet.  Longer if you like it drier and with a little more alcohol to it.
When it's reached the flavor that you like, bottle, leave it alone for a day or two, then refrigerate it for about a week.
A really easy treat for some hot afternoon.

Easter Redbud Sour-Cream Coffee Cake with Western Redbud

I've been really sick lately.  As in 'the herbs aren't doing it, I need a Doc' sort of sick.  I was down and out (well, as much as a person that takes care of their mother could be) for 5 days.  Yesterday, I was finally feeling good enough to actually start chomping at the bit to get outside.

It's been beautiful here.  Well, in a drought stricken sort of way.  Blue skies, light breezes, bees and flowers every where and not a drop of rain.  I really needed to get out in it.  But I didn't want to over do anything and end up back in bed.  So I walked down past the orchard to get some Redbud blossoms.

Redbuds (Cercis occidentalis) are native here.  They are a member of the huge legume family and I often use the seed pods in place of snow peas in recipes.  And the flowers taste like a sweet pea.  I always hear them described as 'sugar-sweet', but I can't get behind that.

I don't do a lot with them besides pickle them for later use and this coffee cake.  But it's good and just in time for Easter brunch.

Sour Cream-Redbud Coffee Cake

Mix 2 cups Redbud blossoms, 1/2 cup sugar, zest from 2 lemons and let sit for 30 minutes.

In a separate bowl blend 1.5 cups flour, 2 teaspoons baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon baking soda, 1/2 teaspoon salt.  Then add this dry mix to the flowers and fold.

Mix 1 beaten egg with 1/2 cup cream, one cup of sour cream, 2 tablespoons oil, add to the flower mixture.

Fold in 2 tablespoons chopped, candied ginger.

Pour into a greased loaf pan.  Mix  1/2 cup flour, 1/4 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup butter and 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon and sprinkle over the batter.

Bake at 375 for about 45 minutes (until the cake springs back when touched).

Cool slightly before removing from pan.