If there is a more quintessentially Texan dessert than pecan pie, we at Myrtle’s place don’t know what it would be. Oh, sure, other places have pies which resemble a good old fashioned Texas pecan pie, but, sorry, it just isn’t the same.
Preferably served straight out of the cast-iron skillet it was cooked in (and, again, you can cook it in a glass pie dish, but why would you?), possibly served with a heaping scoop of cinnamon ice-cream – vanilla is acceptable, too, but don’t go monkeying around with flavors much more exotic than that – and maybe laced with bourbon, rum or brandy as a flavor additive, the essence of the nut has to shine through, or it isn’t really a Texas pecan pie.
We used to live in Austin, where towering pecan trees (often between 60 and 70 feet tall) provide shade to virtually every major park in the city, and where you can bake a pie made entirely from nuts you have collected on your morning walk. Sadly, while there are varieties which thrive in the eastern portions of the state, they are just not as prolific here.
Pecan country starts in Austin and spans through points west – the example shown here is in a park in the middle of Abilene. In fact, the mecca for this nut is any stream or tributary in the desert regions of our great state, and even (though many are loathe to admit it) up through the desert southwest – it may be sacrilige to say so, but one of our favorite pecan orchards is actually in New Mexico, along the banks of the Rio Grande. It may be 105° while you are driving down the highway, but it is a cool and pleasant 85° under the protection of the pecan grove.
So, what does this have to do with Big Myrtle’s place? Unfortunately, nothing. Nothing at all. We have chosen not to grow pecans. We have enough space for two trees, if we were to commit to growing them, and that would be more than enough for us to make all the pies we could ever hope to eat, but we just can’t do it. A mature pecan tree, you see, consumes roughly 100 gallons of water a day in the middle of a Texas summer. We have been hoping to get by using roughly 10,000 gallons of water for the entire garden in the course of a year – two pecan trees would take twice that much just to get through the hot part of the year, from May through October.
So, no go on the pecans. However, as part of a well-balanced diet, some sort of nut is essential; what on earth is a locavore to do when their favorite food is not practical? Naturally, under such circumstances, Myrtle recommends a heavy dose of research.
The nut we would actually prefer to grow, all other things being equal, would be almonds. Almonds are extremely high in monounsaturated fat, one of the prime movers-and-shakers in a diet to reduce LDL (low-density lipoprotein) cholesterol and raise HDL (high-density lipoprotein) cholesterol, a win-win nutrition conscious consumers everywhere ought not to ignore. A 2002 report from the American Heart Association (Jenkins, Kendall, Marchie et al.) described a controlled trial where 73g of almonds in the subjects’ daily diet reduced LDL cholesterol by as much as 9.4%, increased HDL cholesterol (remember, that’s the good cholesterol) by 4.6%, and reduced the LDL:HDL ratio by 12%.
So, almonds are a good thing.
Will they grow here?
No.
Or, rather, not as we currently know them. Both the sweet and bitter almond varieties are available at many nurseries, but they do not produce very well in any part of Texas, frequently not producing at all. Solid almond production in the United States is limited almost exclusively to California, where the orchard you see pictured here is a prime example of the kind of mild and temperate haven for this fruit-we-think-of-as-a-nut.
However… there is a native species in many parts of central Texas, currently spread out over relatively dry, sandy, calcareous soils sitting atop limestone bedrock, known as “smallflower peachbrush”. Prunus minutiflora, or ‘Texas Almond’ does not really look like the traditional almonds you find in every grocery store, with nuts that resemble acorns more than they do almonds, but it has two chief advantages as far as Myrtle is concerned: first, it is native to Texas, and so is more likely to thrive here than would any of the commercial varieties, and second, it is more of a shrub and less of a tree, making it more amenable to a backyard setting.
Is it edible? Is it tasty? Is it as healthy as its California cousins? We don’t know. Hardly any research along those lines has been done. We will unquestionably do some more digging around for information on this plant, because if it proves to be viable, we will want to put it in the ground as soon as possible. Every reputable nurseryman we have spoken with suggests that the commercially available almonds are probably a bad idea for southeast Texas, so prunus minutiflora is potentially our only alternative for almonds.
What about other nuts? Surely something else would work, right?
Actually, there are a few other choices, some more viable, others less so, and each presents challenges.
Hazelnuts are rich in nutrients (especially B vitamins), and numerous phytochemicals, in addition to being another source of unsaturated fats, but they are technically only viable as far south as the Ozark region of Missouri. We could potentially get them to grow in the lee of our oak trees… but… this is not an ideal option.
Walnuts are perfectly at home in the Brazos Valley… but they have a chemical self-defense mechanism which kills off virtually any other fruiting plant within fifty feet of their drip-line.
Peanuts are a possible crop for us, and we may yet consider planting them, but they lack the primary advantage of nut trees, which is their character of perennial production. Peanuts would be just another crop, like our vegetables, which we would have to tend on a regular rotation. Added to that, as a ground crop, peanuts would take up considerable space. We are hoping for a source of nuts which will take us vertical.
Bambara groundnuts are an exciting alternative crop for much of the developing world; these peanut-like plants come from central and western Africa, and have high nutritional content and low watering needs, but, like peanuts, they are space hogs when compared to nutting trees. In fact, bambara would take up more space than peanuts, since the yield per plant is somewhat lower. They are a great plant for subsistence farmers living in isolated areas, particularly since they are an extremely low maintenance crop, but for a half-acre in the middle of the city? Not so good.
Besides which, we are looking for an alternative to our favorite dessert here. Almonds and hazelnuts are known internationally for their ease of assimilation in desserts – peanuts are frequently found in fast-food desserts, but not so much in your finer confectioneries.
Are we willing to go slumming when it comes to the most important course of the meal?
Clearly, some experimentation is in order. We’ll keep you posted.
Happy farming!
Preferably served straight out of the cast-iron skillet it was cooked in (and, again, you can cook it in a glass pie dish, but why would you?), possibly served with a heaping scoop of cinnamon ice-cream – vanilla is acceptable, too, but don’t go monkeying around with flavors much more exotic than that – and maybe laced with bourbon, rum or brandy as a flavor additive, the essence of the nut has to shine through, or it isn’t really a Texas pecan pie.
We used to live in Austin, where towering pecan trees (often between 60 and 70 feet tall) provide shade to virtually every major park in the city, and where you can bake a pie made entirely from nuts you have collected on your morning walk. Sadly, while there are varieties which thrive in the eastern portions of the state, they are just not as prolific here.
Pecan country starts in Austin and spans through points west – the example shown here is in a park in the middle of Abilene. In fact, the mecca for this nut is any stream or tributary in the desert regions of our great state, and even (though many are loathe to admit it) up through the desert southwest – it may be sacrilige to say so, but one of our favorite pecan orchards is actually in New Mexico, along the banks of the Rio Grande. It may be 105° while you are driving down the highway, but it is a cool and pleasant 85° under the protection of the pecan grove.
So, what does this have to do with Big Myrtle’s place? Unfortunately, nothing. Nothing at all. We have chosen not to grow pecans. We have enough space for two trees, if we were to commit to growing them, and that would be more than enough for us to make all the pies we could ever hope to eat, but we just can’t do it. A mature pecan tree, you see, consumes roughly 100 gallons of water a day in the middle of a Texas summer. We have been hoping to get by using roughly 10,000 gallons of water for the entire garden in the course of a year – two pecan trees would take twice that much just to get through the hot part of the year, from May through October.
So, no go on the pecans. However, as part of a well-balanced diet, some sort of nut is essential; what on earth is a locavore to do when their favorite food is not practical? Naturally, under such circumstances, Myrtle recommends a heavy dose of research.
The nut we would actually prefer to grow, all other things being equal, would be almonds. Almonds are extremely high in monounsaturated fat, one of the prime movers-and-shakers in a diet to reduce LDL (low-density lipoprotein) cholesterol and raise HDL (high-density lipoprotein) cholesterol, a win-win nutrition conscious consumers everywhere ought not to ignore. A 2002 report from the American Heart Association (Jenkins, Kendall, Marchie et al.) described a controlled trial where 73g of almonds in the subjects’ daily diet reduced LDL cholesterol by as much as 9.4%, increased HDL cholesterol (remember, that’s the good cholesterol) by 4.6%, and reduced the LDL:HDL ratio by 12%.
So, almonds are a good thing.
Will they grow here?
No.
Or, rather, not as we currently know them. Both the sweet and bitter almond varieties are available at many nurseries, but they do not produce very well in any part of Texas, frequently not producing at all. Solid almond production in the United States is limited almost exclusively to California, where the orchard you see pictured here is a prime example of the kind of mild and temperate haven for this fruit-we-think-of-as-a-nut.
However… there is a native species in many parts of central Texas, currently spread out over relatively dry, sandy, calcareous soils sitting atop limestone bedrock, known as “smallflower peachbrush”. Prunus minutiflora, or ‘Texas Almond’ does not really look like the traditional almonds you find in every grocery store, with nuts that resemble acorns more than they do almonds, but it has two chief advantages as far as Myrtle is concerned: first, it is native to Texas, and so is more likely to thrive here than would any of the commercial varieties, and second, it is more of a shrub and less of a tree, making it more amenable to a backyard setting.
Is it edible? Is it tasty? Is it as healthy as its California cousins? We don’t know. Hardly any research along those lines has been done. We will unquestionably do some more digging around for information on this plant, because if it proves to be viable, we will want to put it in the ground as soon as possible. Every reputable nurseryman we have spoken with suggests that the commercially available almonds are probably a bad idea for southeast Texas, so prunus minutiflora is potentially our only alternative for almonds.
What about other nuts? Surely something else would work, right?
Actually, there are a few other choices, some more viable, others less so, and each presents challenges.
Hazelnuts are rich in nutrients (especially B vitamins), and numerous phytochemicals, in addition to being another source of unsaturated fats, but they are technically only viable as far south as the Ozark region of Missouri. We could potentially get them to grow in the lee of our oak trees… but… this is not an ideal option.
Walnuts are perfectly at home in the Brazos Valley… but they have a chemical self-defense mechanism which kills off virtually any other fruiting plant within fifty feet of their drip-line.
Peanuts are a possible crop for us, and we may yet consider planting them, but they lack the primary advantage of nut trees, which is their character of perennial production. Peanuts would be just another crop, like our vegetables, which we would have to tend on a regular rotation. Added to that, as a ground crop, peanuts would take up considerable space. We are hoping for a source of nuts which will take us vertical.
Bambara groundnuts are an exciting alternative crop for much of the developing world; these peanut-like plants come from central and western Africa, and have high nutritional content and low watering needs, but, like peanuts, they are space hogs when compared to nutting trees. In fact, bambara would take up more space than peanuts, since the yield per plant is somewhat lower. They are a great plant for subsistence farmers living in isolated areas, particularly since they are an extremely low maintenance crop, but for a half-acre in the middle of the city? Not so good.
Besides which, we are looking for an alternative to our favorite dessert here. Almonds and hazelnuts are known internationally for their ease of assimilation in desserts – peanuts are frequently found in fast-food desserts, but not so much in your finer confectioneries.
Are we willing to go slumming when it comes to the most important course of the meal?
Clearly, some experimentation is in order. We’ll keep you posted.
Happy farming!