Saturday night I found myself on the other side of the creek, where Andrew was cleaning a bucket of ginkgo nuts.It was nasty. He had one bucket of fruit that smelled like vomit, and he was busy liberating the seeds into another bucket of water with his bare hands.
I was fascinated. I’d never encountered ginkgo fruit before. There was a lone ginkgo tree at the park on my block growing up in Canada, but I always assumed it was only valuable as an exotic leaf for my collections.
Apparently we only plant male ginkgo trees. Because if we plant female trees, they will mate, and stink. Fascinating. I scooped a glass full of Andrew’s ginkgo nuts and brought them home with me. This morning I cleaned them, and boiled them, and shelled them.
They came out green, with a flavorless taste and the texture of soy-or edamame. I read on the net that, like soy, they would absorb any flavor around them. So I sautéed them in butter with garlic, and they were exquisite. We had guests in town for Thanksgiving, and my ginkgo nuts were devoured by the first wave of breakfast enthusiasts.
Ginkgo is prized in Asian cultures. The benefits of eating it range far and wide. It’s an aphrodisiac. It improves brain function. It’s good for the skin. It’s low in fat and high in starch. Apparently it brings good luck. Why doesn’t everybody eat this stuff?
Today Arlo and I headed to Raleigh, with Andrew’s guidance, to score some ginkgo of our own. We parked at the curb and walked through the fallen leaves to a point where we both caught a whiff of the disgusting ginkgo odor. We were delighted, and began filling our containers with fruit.
Apart from smelling like vomit, apparently the fruit bears the same chemical as poison ivy and causes some ginkgo collectors to break out into a horrific rash. Both Arlo and I have horrible reactions to poison ivy, and we both brought gloves, but neither of us used them-for fear they would be permanently destroyed by the smell of vomit.
When we were finished we loaded the trunk with fruit and headed to Krispy Kreme to wash our hands. Since we were already nasty from the ginkgo harvest, we bought a dozen original glaze for the ride home. We thought it best to be nasty inside and out.
Tonight we boiled and shelled some ginkgo nuts and Arlo carmelized them with cinnamon and sugar. They were horrible. We had read they were highly valued in deserts-but not that way. We roasted some in the oven in olive oil and salt-like we do with the peanuts that we grow. They came out tasting like corn nuts-empty and worthless.
Arlo was not impressed with the garlic infused ginkgo nut he tried at breakfast. Tonight he downed a flavorless boiled nut and found it disgusting. And he didn’t care for the cinnamon and sugar version he created. After three nuts, and a lot of work, he announced his lack of interest in this food. He loved the “usufruct” aspect of the project. And he is without a doubt an “adventure eater.” But we have yet to prepare the ginkgo nut to his liking.
By the end of the day he was quoting the negative side effects of ginkgo. Little things like heart palpitations, anxiety, and restlessness.
We put some shelled nuts in the freezer for another time, and we took some boiled nuts over to Bob and Camille’s. They had lent us a bucket for the trip to Raleigh, and we felt they could use some ginkgo nuts in their diet. Here’s hoping they find the perfect recipe.
Over on our side of the creek, we are still working on it…
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