Traditional pickled wha? « are you gonna eat that?

I’ll file this under “foods that make you go hm.” We were over at a friend’s house for dinner last night and for fun, he pulled out this jar of traditional pickled walnuts.

Of course, my first question is why would anyone pickle walnuts? After tasting one, I’m still not sure. It’s ugly, mushy and puckery. Very puckery.

The recipe for this involves picking young walnuts while the the outer shell is still soft, then soaking them in brine. The walnuts dry to a black colour and are marinated in malt vinegar and spices.

The pickled walnut is apparently a delicacy from England, commonly cooked in with beef dishes or served with cold cuts and cheese. Does anyone out there count this as a childhood memory or favourite?

Charles Dickens mentions pickled walnuts in The Pickwick Papers, written in 1836:

“… the first faint glimmerings of returning animation were his jumping up in bed, bursting out into a loud laugh, kissing the young woman who held the basin, and demanding a mutton chop and a pickled walnut. He was very fond of pickled walnuts, gentlemen. He said he always found that, taken without vinegar, they relished the beer.”

Mutton chop, yes. Beer, yes. Pickled walnut, no thank you.

Caleen D Says:
June 24, 2007 at 4:37 pm

Someone I was talking to recently didn’t believe that people actually ate pickled pigs feet. They were pretty horrified to find out that not only were people eating them, but that they are a delicacy and quite pricey where we live.

By the way, I am a regular reader, and huge fan of your blog. I’ve eaten at a number of the restraunts you’ve written about and I’ve been pleased everytime. My husband and I are currently living in Calgary and getting ready to move to the GTA in a couple of weeks so I look forward to trying some of the places you suggested in Toronto.

Thank you for writing here and for introducing me to some of my new favorite places to eat!

Cheers :)

Cal

jessie Says:
August 8, 2007 at 12:26 pm

I was introduced to pickled walnuts two winters ago in England. Two dislocated Vancouverites who I was staying the night with pulled a jar out from their near empty kitchen cupboard and offered it to me. David had stolen it from the local Sainsbury’s out of curiosity. The concept of trying such a thing was neat, but the experience was anti-climatic and unremarkable.