Green Almonds.
It's very easy to see a family resemblance among stone fruit and almonds when one sees them, through their thick camouflage, growing on trees. The green almond looks exactly like a peach, apricots, and just about any plum in its infancy. It's the shape, where it hangs on the tree, the curious twins and that unmistakable split down the middle.
Depending on where you hail from in the world, different people eat and enjoy green almonds at different stages even within their greennesses. You can buy them at specialty markets as early as, before what is enclosed within its thick outer shell, forms what appears to be anything resembling an almond. What you will find inside is translucent and sour, like the mucous that holds together cucumber seeds. It will have the crunch of a green grape but it will be mild, and almost tannic, or unripe tasting.
I prefer to eat green almonds when they look like an almond but are not quite ready to fall off the tree, split and dry, the way nuts tend to have their end of life cycle. Unless the birds get them first.
The birds, as with all other tree fruits and nuts, have a sixth sense about the exact moment humans are interested in harvesting. Some green almonds will appear fine to eat until they are turned over and a burrowed hole is revealed to show and empty casing still attached to its branch.
Birds. They are worse than the person who leaves one spoonful of ice cream in a container in the freezer.
The first time I ever met a green almond I was consumed with thoughts about what to do with them in the kitchen. My most outrageous thought was that of making a traditional blanc mange. This sort of recipe would require hundreds, if not somewheres close to a thousand, of these precious souls, and I only had access to a few dozen.
There was the possibility of using green almonds as a garnish for a plated dessert. Maybe floating in peach leaf soup? Alongside a fruit compote with Bellwether Ewe's Milk Ricotta? Cooked into a jam with St. Anne's cherries?
You could do all these things and more with green almonds.
But the truth is that they are rare and incredibly subtle in actual hit-the-nail-on-the-head flavor. What is the Flavor of a Green Almond?
Green almonds, when picked now, closer to full maturity, are cool and crunchy, sweetish and lightly fatty, fruity and fence-sitting vegetal, like rhubarb or cucumbers.
And their immediate, innocent wondrousness, disappears quickly! They are a delicacy and should have no other interruption of other flavor or texture noise. And because the green almond requires a very sharp knife or other such implement to open safely, getting many of them in your mouth at the same time proves to be a lesson in saint like patience and sushi chef dexterity.
My advice? Buy them right now, about a pound, and don't tell anyone. Not yet. Get your fill and then share only with those for whom you would peel a grape.






mmm. Sounds delicious. Sounds downright elusive! Just another wonderful possibility to add to the "If-I-Ever-Encounter-You-Watch-Out-Food" list.
Posted by: candace | 06 June 2008 at 01:34 PM
this is probably the most interesting piece I have read in a long time, shuna. I have never had a green almond and I am from marcona country! I am not sure if I will be able to find them in my area but I will certainly research it. and I almost wet my pants when I read that birds are as bad as people that live a spoonful in the ice cream container. genius!
Posted by: aran | 07 June 2008 at 04:26 AM
this is the taste of childhood, teasing sunshine, cool spring breezes, whispered secrets...
Posted by: Kung Foodie Kat | 07 June 2008 at 08:37 AM
"share only with those for whom you would peel a grape"
There is perhaps no better way to say it.
Posted by: Joe Fish | 08 June 2008 at 01:08 AM
I feast on green almonds every year and found that they are party favorites. You'll be the talk of the town if you bring them to a gathering. Most people have never seen or heard of them. It's amusing to see them fight for them once they taste them. Warning: they're very addictive
Posted by: Tarek | 30 June 2008 at 09:11 PM