In Season: Green Almonds
by Adriana Lucci
I distinctly remember trying green almonds for the first time. I had just meandered into a farmer’s market in Paris and found myself between two stalls; one vending small cylinders of goat cheese with ash-ripened rinds, the other towers of jarred marmalades resembling stained glass windows as the spring sun shone through them. In front of me was a humble white tent like all the others; in its protective shade stood a man supervising three brown woven baskets filled to the brim with small green pods. I picked one up and felt its fuzz, wondering if its color and texture would resemble that of a lovechild conceived by a tennis ball and a peach. Turning on my charm, as I tend to do when speaking to a person with whom the fate of my next meal lies, I asked the man what the fuzzy pods were and what I could do with them. He was understandably much less enthused by my prospective snack than I was. Apathetically he stated, “They are fresh almonds. You just eat them.”
A child of New England, I had never before seen fresh almonds and was fascinated by their white baby fur. Meanwhile he stared straight forward, at nothing in particular, mindlessly pricking each drupe with the tip of a knife, through its fuzzy jacket, halting the blade so not to puncture the almond’s crisp tender fruit. He then circumferenced the pod until it was halved—like the process of splitting an avocado in two—and with an effortless flick of the wrist, pried open the shell to reveal a smooth white embryo.
The almond man was still staring strait forward, but his open palm motioned toward me, offering the snack resting at its center. I released the fruit from its hull, instinctively peeled back its smooth membrane, and popped it into my mouth whole: watery, crisp, grassy, tart, and meaty. Its taste is the essence of budding springtime. That afternoon I passed my time under the shade of a tree with a sack of green almonds, imitating the man at the stand, using my room key instead of a knife with some success.
Until recently I had nearly forgotten about green almonds, but in the past few years I’ve been reminded by their burgeoning presence on pricey restaurant menus as a garnish for salads and seafood entrees, peaking my interest once again.
In France green almonds often serve as a pre-dinner snack alongside an aperitif or chilled fruity rosé. On another day in Paris I saw them sliced and sprinkled over jarred compotes. All over the Mediterranean green almonds are eaten plain, dressed with salt and paprika, tossed in fine grain sugar, or dipped in salt water for noshing. In the Middle East, the earliest green almonds are pickled, husk and all, as an accompaniment to lamb or roast chicken. I phoned George Yemetz, one of the owners of Yemetz Family Farms in Livingston, Calif., who recommends slicing and adding green almonds to salads and stir-fries.
The mature almond is the one we know best. The jacket shrivels, the fruit hardens, and finally loses its shell toward the end of the summer. Farmer Nate Siemens, of Fat Uncle Farms in Wasco, Calif., informed me that that first time I ate green almonds they were one stage prior to maturation. He called it “the firm white stage”, available from early May to early June, that is preferred by French chefs for easy slicing. At the beginning of their season in late April, green almonds can be eaten whole with the husk. Their seed has the jellied texture of lychee or a firm grape. This is when they are best for pickling.
George and Nate sell their green almonds at numerous Southern California farmer’s markets, but you can find them at specialty food stores in other parts of the country. Be sure to purchase almonds of a soft green hue, without any bruising or brown spots. You should store them in the refrigerator, where they may last up to a week, but green almonds should be eaten as soon as possible after purchase—especially when they’re young. The entire green almond season is a short six weeks, between late April and early June, and I urge you to seize the opportunity before it passes.
Green Almonds With Chili Salt
Adapted from recipe by Nate Siemens
3 dozen green almonds, shelled and washed
2 tbsp. light olive oil
2 tbsp. sugar
2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cayenne pepper
1. Mix the green almonds with the oil in a small bowl. Combine the sugar, salt, and cayenne in separate bowl and stir to combine. Dust the almonds with the chili-salt mix and serve.
Photography by Meredith Paige
![by Margot Tuchler
Food waste is an uncomfortable and often overlooked reality underlying the restaurant and catering industries. There’s always a pang of guilt that arises when a waiter comes to retrieve a nearly full plate of food and a distant sense of unease at the sight of too many prepared meals at a poorly attended catered event. Although FDA regulations prohibit (understandably) the redistribution of food that has left the kitchen, a group from Arizona State University is working to take advantage of excess food in an effort to alleviate food insecurity.
What began as an idea in a Fall 2011 course in ASU’s School of Engineering (in partnership with the business college) has materialized into FlashFood, now in the tenth week of its pilot program in the Phoenix Valley area, thanks to funding from ASU’s Edson Entrepreneurship Initiative. FlashFood uses a mobile app and text alert system to connect local businesses to locals in need, said Executive Director Eric Lehnhardt a recent ASU graduate and one of FlashFood’s founders.
FlashFood maintains a squad of drivers on call, responsible for picking up food from businesses that have alerted the organization to their excess. Drivers then deliver food to community gathering spaces, such as churches, schools or community centers, and the FlashFood network is notified via text of where and when food will be available.
Lehnhardt noted that historically, donating prepared food has posed quite a challenge—FlashFood provides a new system that operates on efficiency.
“More often than not, if it’s unexpected food it’s very difficult [to donate] so that’s where the FlashFood model makes it easier to respond to unexpected food donations and put food into the hands of community members,” Lehnhardt said.
FlashFood is currently collaborating with Kaleidoscope Juice, a business that focuses on fresh foods including organic juices and quinoa salads, which are certainly safe to eat hours after the restaurant prepares them, but aren’t valuable to the restaurant anymore. FlashFood, by collaborating with businesses like these, is able to extend the idea of food donation past cans and boxes.
The team comes from a variety of academic disciplines—Lehnhardt majored in biomedical engineering, while his colleagues’ majors included material science, computer science, a dual degree in business and sustainability, and two other sustainability majors. This array of expertise is one of FlashFood’s greatest strengths, Lehnhardt said.
FlashFood has spent the last ten weeks working to forge relationships with businesses in the Phoenix Valley, test out the mobile app and see how the community is responding. Since FlashFood is just getting off the ground, plans for future expansion are not yet on the table. However, the team seems to have created a pretty fruitful model. We look forward to tracking FlashFood’s success and we hope you do too.](http://25.media.tumblr.com/734fdab9911a54c46b116c5120df4e62/tumblr_mmy5ac9dkq1r1ye08o1_1280.png)
