When I look back at the photographs from every June 24 for the last dozen years or so (thank you, Instagram and Facebook, for keeping track!) I am struck by the rigor of the summer calendar, encouraging, inspiring, cajoling, and ultimately insisting that this is the time for a Green Walnut Summer.
Last year we all mourned the May ‘21 Late Frost that killed so many grapes, fruit, and nut harvests; this year, the mild winter, wet spring, and hot early summer days are making up for it in spades. From newly arrived white peaches and juicy apricots, sugary-ripe strawberries, and the first amazing ripe smooth-skinned melons to the never-ending cornichons in my garden, I have been torn between pickling and making confitures- small batch by small batch. (see the last post here) But now it’s time to get serious. Mid-Summer is calling my Keeping Kitchen- “Are you ready?” First, I must take stock.
When is enough too much? My pantry is still crowded with last year's weird jams- who gave me the banana-nectarine sludge? Why didn’t I remember to eat all that delicious aubergine confiture from Maurine? Although I still have some spicy Tomato and Chili jam, I’ll make more since it loves cheese and fish as much as I do. But I looked behind all the little jars crowding the shelves and couldn’t find one lost jar of Green Walnut Relish or a tiny jar of Greek Spoon-Sweet Walnuts in syrup. And the last of 2020’s Vin de Noix apéritif will be toasting the summer writing residents' arrival this week. So I can say it’s a safe bet that this week I will be hunting up the last recipe proportions and staining the old cutting boards with tannic green walnut juice- a side benefit of working on old boards before giving them a nourishing oil treatment. And why not make some Brou de Noix or walnut stain for furniture or ink?
The first question everyone asks is, “What is a green walnut?” The second one is usually “Where can I find them?” I hope it doesn’t sound too obnoxious to answer, “Plant a tree.” But that is the truth, or at least adopt one. Even when living in the French countryside, most wild walnut trees have already been claimed by neighbors. (And here in France, I am referring to ‘English’ Walnuts, not ‘Black’ Walnuts, a native to North America). While we’re on about varieties, did you know that there are over 21 species in the walnut family- Juglandaceae? We usually talk about just these two—Black and English walnuts. But in France, there are dozens of sub-categories of the most popular varieties of ‘English’ walnuts— the large Franguette, Mayette, Parisienne, Lara, Corne, Marbot, Jewel, and Gourlande.
So what is a Green Walnut? And when is it Green?
When we call them ‘green walnuts,’ we are referring to the stage of their development, like an unripe red Delicious apple versus a green-colored Granny Smith. The fruit of the walnut is still developing, the external husk is bright green, and the internal fruit is white with traces of the drupes.
"Some examples of drupes are peaches, plums, and cherries—but walnuts, almonds, and pecans are also drupes." read more here.
So maybe I should call this Green Drupe Wine.
I don’t know the variety of my walnut trees at Camont, but I know they were planted by those small fleet-footed red squirrels that leap across the oak tree park next to the pigeonnier. A hidden nut is forgotten, not eaten, and then miraculously sprouts into a 10 ft tall sapling; it doesn’t take long before it’s too big to take out. At that point, I decide if it is a keeper or if I can move it somewhere. I think of that as accidental gardening. And so, over the years, I have encouraged a half dozen walnut trees to root and shade the edges of the one-acre garden at Camont. The largest of them sprouted in the driveway, and it turned out to be the most beautiful; it was spared chopping down many times by Steve Cervetti until we accommodated the ganivelle fencing around it and enlarged the parking area to take advantage of its heavy summer shade.
This year, at over 25 feet, that tree’s heavy boughs are drooping hundreds of pairs of plump green ovals just at stepladder height. And with some help from the more agile crew, I’ll pick these Summer walnuts for our apéritifs on Sunday. According to myths and culinary lore, a couple of days late, but within the fresh fattening period. When cut in half (or smashed as I prefer!), you can just recognize the light walnut shell starting to form around the nut's meat. This thick white pulp surrounding the undone shell is full of tannins that will stain fingers, tables, aprons, and cutting boards. Wear gloves or not; there will be tannic walnut juice everywhere!
So I suppose you want a recipe now.
When I published my first book, A Culinary Journey in Gascony in 1995, I included the ‘recipe’ that Claude Pompèle shared with me as the gold standard for Vin de Noix or green walnut wine, a classic Gascon apéritif. Unlike Italy’s Nocino ( a sweetened green walnut liqueur by my kitchen sister Judy Witts Francini- ) or a liqueur de noix vertes with 40% alcohol like you’ll find in France, Vin de Noix is a lower alcohol content apéritif- served at about 18%. We drink it before a meal with some charcuterie or other salty snacks. A simple table wine (we often use rosé here) is mixed with crushed green walnuts, alcohol, and sugar, then lightly spiced with a scant flavoring of cloves, cinnamon, and nutmeg. A lemon or orange peel adds a citrus balance to the tannic nut taste. Here’s my original recipe.
Vin de Noix ~ green walnut apéritif
Makes 2 liters
1995. It isn’t a visit to chez Pompèle unless we share an aperitif of our friend Claude Pompèle’s homemade walnut-flavored fortified wine. This apéritif maison (house drink) is perfected every year as family and friends critique, judge, compliment, and, most of all, enjoy the bitter-fragrant sweet wine.
In midsummer, St. Jean’s Eve is celebrated in the countryside with bonfires lit in steel boats and set afloat along the Garonne. This ancient custom is fêted in villages with special dinners and a bal musette (town dance). This is the day Claude picks the walnuts from the tree. Green walnuts are the walnut's husk, shell, and kernel in its immature phase. When you cut a fruit in half, you can see the outline of the nut just starting to form in the juicy white flesh. Smash the walnuts outside, wearing your old work clothes since the tannins in the nut will stain everything dark brown. Vétou says French women used to “tan” their legs with walnut juice during the war when silk stockings were in short supply.
24 green walnuts picked on a midsummer day (traditionally June 24- la Fête de St. Jean)
500 ml (16 fl oz ) eau-de-vie (plain fruit brandy) or vodka
24 sugar cubes or 24 tsp sugar (I've reduced the amount of sugar from the original recipe)
2 liters (3 bottles) of good red or rosé wine
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon or one cinnamon stick
several gratings from a whole nutmeg or about ½ tsp
Three whole cloves
zest of 1 lemon
1. Cut and smash the whole walnuts with a rolling pin on an old piece of wood. Gloves are needed as the green nuts will stain everything they touch. Smash the milky fruit well. Place in an earthenware crock or plastic bucket with a lid. This is a messy but fun business!
2. Add the rest of the ingredients to the crock and stir well until the sugar is dissolved.
3. Let rest for about a month (24 days!) in a cool, dark place, then strain through several layers of cheesecloth (I used a paper coffee filter once with good results). Pour into bottles and cork. Store the bottles vertically so the alcohol won’t eat the cork.
4. Serve chilled in a little sherry glass. “Salut, a nous!”
Excerpt From: Kate Hill. “A Culinary Journey in Gascony: recipes and stories from my french canal boat.”
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And then there is Green Walnut Relish, Greek Spoon Sweets, Pickled Walnuts, etc. For more green walnut recipes: check out the June edition of A Gascon Year.
Making some right now!
Sounds awesome & I'd like to try making it. I wonder though if the concoction will make give some people a stomachache from all the tannins?