The Amazing Pinion Pine Tree And The Equally Amazing Nut It Bears. . . .

Justin Paul Wimsatt


Thanks for the Pine Nuts
and the "Trip Down Memory Lane!"




A Pinion Pine Tree of the species that grows
on the Panaca Summit.

A close up picture of an open pine cone.



About ten days ago, I had a telephone call from Justin. He said, "Hey Grandma, I'm mailing you
some pine nuts. I'll be putting them in the mail tomorrow and you should receive them Friday or Saturday.' I was so excited when they arrived. They were very large pine nuts in the most beautiful deep brown and mahogany shades. I say "were" because I have already eaten all but a small hand full, and there were three very full zip lock bags.

When I was "Growing Up Ina" in the beautiful little town of Panaca, pine nuts were a normal part of my life. As a child, I don't think I realized what an amazing tree the pinion pine tree is, or what a delicacy the pine nut that it bears is considered. We just always had access to them. Referred to as "The Manna of the Mountains", in the history of the Southwest, the pinion pine tree (also called pinon or pinyon), grew in wild profusion on the summit going out of Panaca into Southern Utah. The species that grows there prefers elevations of 4,000 to 7,000 feet and likes a dry, rocky, alkaline soil. They are drought tolerant and can withstand fluctuations in the temperature. Among this species, a tree that reaches 35 feet can be often be found but generally they are much shorter, from 10 to 20 feet. They have a gnarled trunk and branches with bark that is irregularly furrowed and scaly. The pine nut is an important food source to many birds, especially the Pine Jay. Many animals, some large like the mule deer and black bear, forage for them. They are a healthy treat for humans, having more protein than any other nut. I have written in several of my stories of the pine nut's importance to the Indians of the American Southwest, as a means of sustenance and revenue.

Each year, Mom eagerly awaited the pine nut season. She had an uncanny sense of whether or not it was going to be a "good" pine nut harvesting year. In the spring when the trees started to bloom, she would ride to the summit and look at the trees. She could easily tell which were the male trees and which were the female, by the color of the blossoms. She would actually stake out areas where there were more of the male and female trees in close proximity.

When she deemed the time was right to start the harvest, we would rise early in the morning. Mom would have packed a substantial and delicious picnic lunch and would have plenty of water. We would have gloves, gunny sacks and tarps. Long sleeved shirts, long pants, and sturdy shoes, were worn to protect arms and legs from scratches and the sticky sap (pitch) of the trees. We seldom picked the cones. Mom preferred to harvest the nuts by gathering those that had fallen to the ground under the trees. From her previous scouting excursions, she knew which trees would have released the most pine nuts. It was a more painstaking chore to pick them up this way but you knew they were mature and you were leaving cones on the tree to assure that all of the pine nuts ripened. Plus, you avoided a lot of the sticky sap. Before picking up the nuts from the ground, we would spread a tarp under a tree and gently shake it. The cones that were mature and were open, would release many of the nuts that had not already fallen onto the ground. We would transfer them from the tarp to a gunny sack and then pick up those that were on the ground.

These were fun, joyous excursions. Often, Aunt Theresa would come from Alamo with our cousins. She would also have packed a picnic lunch and between the two there were many different and delicious foods to eat. Sometimes our Panaca cousins, Janice and Joyce Mathews, would join us. There was lots of love and laughter shared as we sorted the pine nuts under the shade of the pinion pine trees and huge boulders. We loved to watch the lizards and horned toads basking in the sun while the pocket mice, squirrels, chipmunks, and birds were busily doing their own harvesting around us. We would often see a family of owls nesting in one of the trees.

After we returned home with our harvest, one of the most delightful perks of our excursion took place as Mom roasted the pine nuts; the heavenly smell of pine and the outdoors which permeated our home as they roasted. Some of the nuts were stored raw for future roasting.

When I was in my teens, the "Pine Nut Bandits" were operating in large numbers. They decimated the pinion pine forest, destroying the trees and terrain. The BLM and local law enforcement agencies, working together with law enforcement from Southern Utah, did all they could to catch them and halt the destruction. It proved to be almost impossible. They would strike after dark, arriving in trucks and armed with chain saws. They would drive their trucks under a tree and cut off the entire top to get as many cones as they could, many of them not yet mature. Thus, trees were destroyed and pine nuts taken while they were far from being ready to harvest, with hundreds of pounds wasted. Large fines were levied if they were caught, but as most of these bandits came from out of state, few were. We watched large sections of the pinion forest destroyed and die before our eyes. It was so sad.

After I married and moved away, I eagerly checked my mail each day during the pine nut season. I knew that one day when I opened my mailbox, there would be a package from Mom containing a heavenly cache of pine nuts. Thanksgiving and Christmas always brought us pine nuts, suet pudding and lemon sauce, fruit cake, and peach melon and plum preserves. Those were the most precious of gifts; gathered, prepared, baked, and sent with love, by Mom.

AN ITEM OF INTEREST. . . .

I was looking through some of the old James Wadsworth Tribal Gazettes the other day for a piece of information I needed. While browsing the November 10, 1965 edition, I read this in Mom's news: "I have gone pine nutting some. Have picked up thirty-five pounds . I don't have that many left because I keep cooking some. I am going out today at noon for the first time this week. (Roxie Clay, Rachel, and I.)"

I am sure some of those thirty-five pounds were sent to us in California for Christmas.

ROASTING PINE NUTS THE LOIE WADSWORTH WAY. . . .

I have always roasted pine nuts the way Mom taught me; Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Spread a layer of pine nuts on the bottom of a cast iron skillet. Add water to come just to the top of the nuts. Add 1/8 to 1/4 cup of sea salt (personal preference). Place in oven and cook 15 to 30 minutes, size, thickness of shell and how done you want them, determining the cooking time. Check frequently, taking a nut from the center and checking to see if it is done to your preference. I like mine to be cooked to just seconds after the meat becomes translucent. Remove from oven and rinse with cool water to stop the cooking process. Drain and spread out on paper towels to absorb moisture. You can then place them back in the cooking vessel and return to the oven for a very few minutes to draw moisture from the shell (not long enough to further cook them). I like my meat soft. Some prefer to cook them to various shades of butterscotch. You will have more hard nuts at this point.

Talking to Paul the day I was roasting the pine nuts, he said he likes to go to the oven several times while they are cooking and open it, which lets that heavenly smell permeate the room. I agreed with him that it is a lovely thing to do.

HOW TO EAT A PINE NUT THE INA WIMSATT WAY. . . .

Throughout my 77 and a half years of life, I think I have become an expert on how to successfully eat a pine nut. If you watch George and I eat them, you will see that he does not have near the expertise in this field that I do (finally, something I do better than him!)

Here are my instructions of how to eat a pine nut; Grasp a pine nut by the small end between your thumb and forefinger. Insert nut into mouth. Fix your teeth a little below the half way point of the nut. Gently bite to crack the shell. Pull to remove the portion of shell held between your fingers. With you tongue, flip over the nut, allowing you to remove the remaining piece of shell while savoring the meat of the nut for a few heartbeats, until slowly and with complete joy, you chew and swallow. Often, with Brinton in mind (but that is another story), happily humming as you do so. If you have cooked them properly, this is a seldom fail experience.

I do have one fetish connected with eating pine nuts. I can't stand to waste one. If I accidentally bite too hard and cut the nut in half, rather than discard it, I find myself using my fingernails to open each half to get the meat out. Tedious, but I think each pine nut, regardless of how lowly, deserves their moment of martyrdom.

A GREENHORN'S PINE NUT EATING EXPERIENCE. . . .

I will end with this humorous story; After George got out of the navy, we were living in Garden Grove, California. George was working for his brother Jack, installing carpet. Jack and his wife Lee, were our nearest immediate family and we spent a lot of time at their home. We raved about pine nuts to them. They had never eaten them. One day, after a package containing pine nuts arrived from Mom, I excitedly showed them the nuts. Before we could stop him, Jack grabbed a hand full and popped the unroasted nuts, shell and all, into his mouth. He chewed and chewed while a slide show of expressions moved across his face. Finally, as we watched in awe, he gave a great gulp and swallowed. He grimaced and announced, "Well, I don't see what is so great about pine nuts. Eating them is not what I would call a pleasant experience!"

Thank you, Justin, for this "Trip Down Memory Lane".