As I was exiting the Observatory Circle after at the Octagon Open House after my Mound Walk, there were a whole bunch of nuts on the golf cart pavement. I had somebody ask me, “Do you know what kind of nuts those are?” “Hickories, probably pignut hickories.” “Thanks. Aren’t those rather hard to step on?” “I just don’t step on them, but even if I do (I said as I stepped on one), it’s not much trouble. My foot folds around it.”
But there are some nuts . . .
I’ve written before about Klingons. No, they’re not really nuts. As a reminder, here’s what they look like:
A “Klingon”
This is the fruit of the tulip poplar, and if you have soft feet, that little point will stick to the bottom of your foot. They “cling-on”.
But that’s only a problem if you don’t hike much. Hike a bit more, and your feet are impervious. So, hike more!
One nut I did run across on my mound walk (at the Great Circle) was the beechnut (and here you thought all they were was a flavor of gum).
Beechnut Burs
Those are pretty impressive spikelets. Once again, if one does regular hiking and one’s soles have built up a bit and aren’t namby-pamby soft, they’re really not a problem. Yes, you can feel them, but they don’t stick and really don’t even cause any pain.
But then there was a tree I encountered just as I returned to the Great Circle at the end of the mound walk. It looked like this.
Mystery Tree
Look familiar to anybody?
Does this help?
Mystery Bur from the Mystery Tree
How about this?
Mystery Nuts in the Mystery Bur of the Mystery Tree
Yes, those are chestnuts. I presume that the tree is a Chinese Chestnut, since the American Chestnut was pretty much wiped out by the chestnut blight.
Those burs are awful to step on. Even well-conditioned soles don’t really help. After I’d stepped on one (not looking properly where I was stepping), I realized I had a few (maybe 3) little spikes in my sole.
While bad, they weren’t awfully bad. I would feel one only occasionally (when its exact spot got specifically pressed by a high spot on the ground). But when I brushed my fingers over that spot on my foot, I could feel a slightly raised area. Brushing them with a knife removed them easily, though.
However, for that last picture, I used my fingers to open up the chestnut bur, and I am still feeling that spike on my thumb, which has no callus (or keratinization) at all. So these would be really awful on somebody without conditioned soles.
After that first exposure, I was really careful walking through these chestnuts. They were everywhere.
A Mine Field of Chestnut Burs
Back to the hickory nuts. I’d recently read about something called “hickory milk” (in the book 1491). I found a recipe here at Tom’s Trees, so I tried it.
These were a staple of Native Americans. John Heckewelder wrote in 1818, referring to the Native Americans he was living with:
Another very good dish is prepared by boiling with their corn or maize, the washed kernels of the shell-bark or hickory nut. They pound the nuts in a block or mortar, pouring a little warm water on them, and gradually a little more as they become dry, until, at last, there is a sufficient quantity of water, so that by stirring up the pounded nuts the broken shells separate from the liquor, which from the pounded kernels assumes the appearance of milk. This being put into the kettle and mixed with the pottage gives it a rich and agreeable flavour. If the broken shells do not all freely separate by swimming on the top or sinking to the bottom, the liquor is strained through a clean cloth, before it is put into the kettle.
The nuts, although they have a hard shell, were pretty easy to crack with a hammer. I did it on a towel to be able to collect the pieces.
Cracked Hickories
If you hit them too hard they will scatter, so just slowly keep increasing the blow until they crack open.
The recipe calls for 3 times as much water as nuts. Here are the nuts I started with:
Ready to Boil
After boiling them for about half an hour, this is what I was left with after I ran everything through a sieve.
Remaining Liquid
I figure I must have done something wrong. The descriptions claim that it should look a fair bit like milk. I also got the impression that it was supposed to be thicker than this. But all I got was this rather thin brown liquid.
It did smell good (nicely nutty), and it tasted pretty good (I didn’t add sugar, but I bet that would have been a nice touch).
It was really more like a tea.
I ended up with a nutty nut-tea.
(PS. If anybody knows what I did wrong, feel free to let me know.)
I found out I’m allergic to hickory nuts on Sunday when I ate a few that I collected from the trail. Apparently they’re related to walnuts, which I’m also allergic to and cause some mind swelling in various parts of my mouth. I find it unfortunate because they were pretty tasty. At least I can eat almonds.
Should have been “mild swelling”
Yes, hickories are related to walnuts, with both of the Family Juglandaceae. Almonds are actually a member of the same family as roses (as are most fruit trees like apples, peaches, plums), so it’s no wonder you are safe with them. It’s good you only had a mild reaction to the hickories.
The mystery nuts in the open burr look like an Allegheny chinquapin. Check with a better botanist than I.
Hickories are closer relative of the pecan than walnut and can be used as nutmeat interchangeably with it in recipes. They are great in a fairly standard brown sugar cookie recipe, but not as well in pecan pies. An interesting substitute for pecans in standard pie recipes are bullnettle seeds.
Find bullnettles and watch the seed pods. They have three lobes. When white streaks appear between the lobes, pick them (kitchen tongs and work gloves both are highly recommended!), and put them in a can. Cover with a slightly larger can and leave in the sun. You will hear a sound like popcorn popping. If not confined, the seeds will shoot a yard or so from the plant. Take the seed and open the shell with a sharp pocket knife; breaking the pointed end of the seed with pliers first speeds things up. The meat inside is what you want. It is tedious work, but worth it. The taste is between a peanut and sunflower seed. It might (or might not) be a way around nut allergies. Test with small amounts first; if no ill effects try larger doses. This is also a way to cure allergies, but do so under a allergist’s supervision.
I was unaware of the Allegheny Chinquapin, also known as “dwarf chestnut”, since it is just another kind of chestnut. But, as I look up both the Allegheny Chinquapin and Chinese Chestnut, I think I still have to go with the Chinese Chestnut. The Chinquapin has one nut per bur, and is not flattened on one side. The Chinese Chestnut has 2-3 nuts per bur, which is what I saw (along with flattened sides). But I do appreciate the suggestion.
OK, so the tree I was given as Allegheny was really Chinese. It had multiple seeds and were flat, although I attributed that to the fact that there were no male trees around and so the seeds were empty.
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