Fall Walnutting

A few years ago, I was reduced to hiking at Raccoon Creek--which is not a bad place, it's just not the North Woods--and I came across an area I've known for years with hundreds of wild black walnuts on the ground. I stuck about 2 dozen in my backpack and came home and learned how to process them. Walnuts come encased in a thick, pungent green womb that smells like lemon-lime. You can't break the husks open without gloves, otherwise the dark, inky fluid inside will stain your fingers and everything they touch. I found a helpful website that taught me how to process wild nuts. You start collecting them in the early fall and then breaking them out of their hulls. Once husked, you let the walnuts sit in their shells till about Christmas...which could explain why nuts and nutcrackers used to be popular Christmas gifts. 

Black walnut trees aren't much to look at--unless you've got a really grand one. Most are scrappy and unappealing. But black walnuts themselves are pretty good, really flavorful, with a dense, rich, slightly bitter and unmistakably wild taste. Today, I easily filled an entire backpack with all the nuts I gathered off the ground, leaving many for the squirrels. I recall breaking the shells open with pliers and removing the meats with needle-nose pliers, which is a task for much later. I can begin breaking these out of their hulls right away, but I'll probably wait a few days. 

Raccoon Creek was my only respite from city life when we first moved back down to Pittsburgh, lo these 15 years ago. It felt strange to go back there today. On my way home, I took the slow scenic route right through the park, which has not changed at all down through the years. I'm so grateful that my horizons have expanded to embrace both the Northlands (that I love) and the city (that I love somewhat less). I mean, just today I subscribed to an early music concert series here in town--which is something you cannot find north of I-80 till you get to New York State. Living in two worlds. Actually, I've been doing that in one sense or another for a very long time. I don't know how I'm ever going to live in one place or the other when I need elements of both.