Pistachios

Remember when I wrote about Shannon, the kind, generous soul who allowed us to pick her abundant peach tree clean? Last month, she let me know that it looked like the pistachios were ready for harvest. We did a little research on the internet, and drove over with a large sheet of plastic, several boxes, and a big stick.

Unfortunately, we didn't bring the camera with us, so I can only describe what that first stage was like. Jon and Zephyr would spread out the sheet of plastic under a tree, then hit the branches, shaking loose all pistachios that were ripe. Then they would gather what fell and load it into a box. There was something I didn't like about this method. Probably the fact that a lot of loose branches, twigs, spiders, and bugs would be accompanying us home. So I handpicked nice, clean, whitish looking nuts, thinking the processing of my box would be less dirty and buggy.

And, the good news is, the box I was using wasn't as buggy or dirty. The bad news is that very few nuts were the result of all my careful pickings. One of the (many) things we learned about pistachio harvesting is that if they're clinging to the tree, not only are they not ripe, but they probably don't even contain a nut. Keep that in mind, in case you are ever lucky enough to find someone who will share their trees with you.

Anyway, we got home, and knew we had to get started right away. Pistachios grow with a funny little wrapper on the outside. After wrestling this jacket off many thousands of pistachios, I'm still not quite sure just how to describe it. I've decided that it's sort of like a banana peel, only all sealed up, with no easy way in. We borrowed a screen our neighbor Carrie uses for sifting rocks out of soil, and vigorously rubbed big handfuls of pistachios against it. Vigorous, as in even Jon called it an ab workout, and if you've been lucky enough to glimpse my husband's rock-hard stomach, you know that's no joke.

We had read that after removing the outer coating, we were supposed to lay the pistachios in the sun to dry for three days. We had an unusually rainy spell during the week we picked, so we ended up spreading them out on the guest bed, instead.


After the nuts seemed as dry as they were going to get, we dipped them in some very salty water, then let them sunbath for a couple of days. I think this was Zephyr and Jubilee's favorite part.

We brought them in and scooped them into these Crown Royal bags I picked up at a garage sale sometime ago. They were a quarter each, and somehow I couldn't walk away from them.



Working the pistachios was long, often lonely work. I say lonely, because I didn't feel like anyone could really relate to what we were going through. My former-student-now-friend Andra came to the door one afternoon, hoping to just drop off a few copies of a literary newspaper she beautifully edits into life. She made the mistake of mentioning that her family has pistachio trees. I dragged her into the kitchen, which I had come to think of as my "work chamber," to see if she could refine our setup. When her mother, B.K., realized Andra had been abducted into my pistachio lair, she came to rescue her daughter, and commiserated on the anguish and triumph of pistachio harvesting.

Our experience, plus an ongoing dialogue with B.K., has taught me that if we are lucky enough to shake Shannon's trees again next year, these are the things we'll do differently:

• Clear the calendar for a few days after picking. This year, we picked on a Monday afternoon- just before our busiest time of the week. It may have been a week before some of the nuts became unsheathed, so some of the nuts were moldy.
  
• Nuts won't dry out as well on a guest bed as they will in the sun. A slow roast in a kettle is quite likely even better.
• B.K. says that critters can get into sacks, so now our nuts are stored in glass jars. Anyone have any good ideas for what to do with far too many velvety purple Crown Royal bags?
• Obviously, I won't waste my time picking duds off the trees. Neater, yes. Productive, no.
• B.K. and family had success using a rock tumbler to get the coating off the nuts. Although Jon never complained, I know he'd rather sculpt his abs using yoga than rubbing pistachios.

Despite all our blunders, I'm calling our first pistachio experience a raging success. We like them, and there is something very satisfying about harvesting protein. Plus, sifting large handfuls of pistachios through your fingers is a very pleasant sensation. Now we're just that much nuttier.