Though the rain may not have hit yet here in the foothills, the tiniest sound of pat-pat-pat can be heard around our live oaks. The beauty of these trees is self-evident, but the historical importance of their acorns for the local Yokut tribe's subsistence is amazing. And somewhere in our tales of the Native American survival, the kids got caught on the idea of making our own acorn mush. Why did I go along with it? After starting the leaching process, I asked myself this many times. But the answer is simple: there is something about this foothill land that begs to be uncovered and appreciated -- both for its abundance and for its legacy.
Step 1: So the kids started harvesting. This was the easiest part, as the acorns completely cover the ground beneath the umbrella of the trees. And then the kids quit. But we got enough for our little experiment…
Step 2: Use needle-nosed pliers to ease open the acorn. There is an art to this!
Step 3: This was the highlight of the endeavor. Crushing them into a fine pulp with the kids.
Step 5: The hardest part was definitely the leaching process, to wash away the bitter tannins that are naturally in the acorn. While the Yokuts placed the crushed acorns in baskets in the riverbeds to wash the tannins away over the course of a season or longer, I’m far too used to modern conveniences for that sort of thing, or that sort of wait. So after searching the internet, we chose to use the hot water method of leaching, by boiling the acorns for three hours and changing the water six or so times in that period. During that time, the bitterness was pulled out of the acorn and into the water, leaving less and less tannins inside the nut with each water change. I kept two pots on the stove so that there was always a fresh pot of boiling water on the stove after I poured the brown water off. And after about three hours, we finally were brave enough to try the acorn and, true to the promise, it tasted perfectly bland and deliciously edible. The yellow nut had become quite dark in the process, too.
Step 6: Drying. This is where my failure happened. Instead of drying them as recommended, I think I accidentally roasted them. Dehydrators are recommended, but I tried to dry them in my oven, and they ended up resembling charcoal! At this point, I should use a coffee grinder to grind them up into a finer flour, and then use them in my baking, but the kids have since gone on to search for “coyote dens,” and I’m thinking that my charcoal might not be salvageable.
Step 7: Baking. Go to the cupboard, be thankful that Clovis, Fresno AND Prather are all within 15 minutes of this beautiful land, and we have wonderful grocery stores with Krusteaz baking mixes, from which I then conceded and baked my beautiful non-acorn muffins. Which we then ate beneath the oak trees.
Though the rain for the San Joaquin Valley has been scarce, the annual blossoming has begun. The first to blossom are the bush lupin. Most of the year they look dusty and sparce, but beginning in February the woody branches spring to life with glorious purple sprays. Then followeing are the California golden fiddleneck and pure white snowflakes. The oaks are budding and the grass is green. 
