Black Walnuts at the Annadel Estate, Courtesy of Google MapsWestwood’s Annadel Estate Vineyard has been around a while. In days long past someone planted black walnut trees along the border of the property that fronted a road which would eventually become Sonoma Highway (State Route 12). They are old — over 100 feet tall — essentially untended and mostly healthy.

A couple of weeks ago we were discussing the vineyard with Gillian Ballance (sommelier at Santi) and her partner Nash Cognetti (chef at Tra Vigne) at the Westwood Salon when the subject of these walnuts came up. I can’t recall who said it first, but one of them said “Walnuts? Have you ever thought of making nocino?”

Careful readers of this blog may have noted an occasional reference to my love of bitter things: Fernet Branca and Campari, especially. I know that nocino exists but I had to confess that I had never tasted it. I was intrigued by the descriptions given by Gillian and Nash, and their enthusiasm. I engaged in a crash course of research.

Green Walnuts

Nocino. It tastes like nothing else, especially unlike the overtly nutty flavors in the sweet and syrupy Frangelico or Amaretto. It is dark, more bitter, and has a complex flavor with notes of citrus and woody resins overlaying just hints of walnut. The reason for this is simple: nocino is made from unripe fruit. unripe black walnut

Hmmmm… We are presented with the opportunity to utilize a resource at our vineyard that is otherwise unused, to produce an uncommon artisanal liqueur with a unique bitter character I like, and would be of interest to a least a couple of local high-end restaurateurs. Are we in? Are we? …OH HELLS YEAH we are.

Traditionally in Italy walnuts are picked to make nocino on June 24th — the Festa di San Giovanni Battista — but the point is to pick them before the shell starts to harden inside the fruit. I went to the vineyard a couple of days after chatting with Gillian and Nash to grab a few walnuts and see if the shells had started to form. The shells on our black walnuts had not — we have had a cold year here so far. Houston, we are go for liftoff.

Next, more research into materials and methods, then some phone calls about licensing and compliance, and a meeting with our friend Fred Groth. Fred and Amy Groth are making a local, organic limoncello called Hello Cello™ Limoncello di Sonoma. This is another one of those cases of being at the right place at the right time — Fred had just been thinking of opening some of his production capacity to other new high-end local projects involving grape brandies. Bingo!

Saturday July 17th Eddie and I were at the vineyard early, climbing on the roof of the big flatbed truck to reach just the lowest branches of five or six trees. In about 3 hours we pulled off about 38 kg of fruit. This is hard work, and we needed more specialized equipment — at least some fruit picking ladders we could set up in the flatbed, some gloves, and some knives or shears. Next year.

We got back to Sonoma with the buckets and set up to start quartering the walnuts with sharp knives. It was not to be — we ended up having a HUGE day at the Salon. Eddie and I started cutting walnuts on Sunday and finished on Tuesday. We are using the method outlined in the traditional recipe published by the Ordine del Nocino Modenese as a starting point, so the quartered walnuts went into clear glass carboys with an equal weight of sugar. After a couple of days in the sun for the light, heat and oxygen to do their thing and for the sugar to draw liquid from the fruit, we took the carboys to Hello Cello to have neat brandy added.

I spent a couple of late evenings working out the assortment, quantities and proportions of flavoring and aromatic botanicals (facoltativi in Italian — just love that word for some reason) to add to our nocino. Starting with the traditional cloves and cinnamon at low levels I came up with a slightly more complex formula that smells really good on its own. I admit I have little experience in compounding alcoholic infusions, so if I err at the beginning I intend it to be on the side of caution — I’m using much smaller quantities than some sources call for, and hoping for a harmonious result where the aroma of the green walnuts predominates.

So for the next couple of months the carboys will sit at Hello Cello, with periodic stirring. After that we will strain off the liquid and put it up to age for another 10 months or so. As of today we plan to raise a portion of it in small used French oak cooperage, conserving the balance in glass or stainless. After a year, Hello Cello will bottle it for us in 375 mL glass.

The Black Saint

I’m enchanted with the traditions surrounding these ancient recipes. I think it’s cool that they pick walnuts for nocino on the Feast of St. John the Baptist — June 24th — a national holiday in Italy. I was baptized and raised a Catholic and the catechism learned in youth still influences the man. Checking the Church calendar for the saints celebrated on July 17th I came across St. Aquilinus (or Acllinus), one of the Scillitan Martyrs who gave their lives for their faith at Carthage on that date in the year 180 A.D.

St. Aquilinus is one of the African or Black Saints of the early Church, as was St. Augustine among many others. Our first nocino is a beautiful dark color, rare, and surprising. I find this resonates with my discovery of St. Aquilinus, so we are calling our first Westwood Nocino — harvested July 17th, 2010 — “The Black Saint.”

We are hoping for “The Black Saint” to be a success. In 2011 it will be available in the Westwood Salon, online and perhaps at a few local restaurants. In the meantime Fred and Amy are going to bottle up a small batch of Limoncello di Sonoma for us. And I’m thinking of another project of my own — perhaps some exotic small-batch bitters.