On Urban Foraging

I read recently that behavioral psychologists believe they have pinpointed the reason so many of us have the urge to shop from time to time. I'm not talking about the weekly grocery run or Christmas shopping, but that urge to head out to the markets and browse, for no particular reason and with no objective in mind. It seems that though we've become a very technologically advanced animal, we are still hunter-gatherers at heart. As a result we find ourselves down at the local hippie markets scratching around for shiny beads and all manner or other crap we don't need.

There must be a better way.

Growing up in the Rocky Mountains I was sometimes able to satiate this primitive urge naturally: fishing for trout, gathering wild alpine strawberries and raspberries, stealing crabapples. Now, however, I live in the city and, while Sydney does have a remarkable amount of green space, foraging opportunities are limited.

Imagine, then, my excitement when I discovered a park full of ancient oak trees, each heavy with acorns. These little nuts were once widely consumed by Native Americans and American settlers, but have fallen out of favor. This is due, no doubt, to the amount of work involved in preparing the acorns to eat. They are very high in tannic acid, a bitter substance, which needs to be leeched out before they can be consumed.

Once the tannins are removed, the flesh of the nut is treaded like a grain - dried and pounded or ground into a meal. From this meal Native Americans and settlers made flatbreads, pancakes, soups, and porridge.



Collecting acorns is no problem, as they fall from the tree when they are ripe. Living in Australia I have the added advantage of not having to fight with squirrels, as there are none here. (That's right Hippies, you can stop worrying that I'm starving the fluffy-tailed tree rats. Don't you have some hemp jewelery you should be selling somewhere?)

My urge to collect nuts and berries satisfied, I realized I didn't know what to do with the acorn meal. I thought about looking up some traditional acorn recipes, but that stuck me as a bit to “Renaissance Fair” or Frontier Days” and I can see how that's only seconds away from joining a jousting club or wearing a coonskin cap. I don't have time for that sort of thing. Luckily a fellow chef and friend of mine, James, stopped by the restaurant while I was leaching the nuts. After convincing him that they were indeed not deadly, he casually suggested that I make Mont Blanc. The man's a frickin' genius.

Mont Blanc is a traditional French dessert made from chestnuts and named after Mont Blanc (White Mountain) which the plating of the dessert is meant to resemble. The nuts are simmered in flavored, sweetened cream until they form a paste. The paste is then piped into a mound, cooled and topped with chantilly cream – vanilla whipped cream – et voilà, a snow-capped peak.

I've never managed to eat an entire plate of Mont Blanc; it's far too rich. I made a tiny, flat serve of Acorn Mont Blanc, and it was just enough. The recipe below serves four people.




Start by making acorn flour. Collect ripe acorns, discarding any with holes in them. Shell them. Blend the nuts with water until a wet paste forms. Strain through a towel. Pour the nut mass into a large container, cover with boiling water and let soak. Strain. Repeat this process until the meal tastes sweet. Some varieties of acorn will taste sweet right away, others (like the ones I gathered) will take quite a few rinses. Squeeze the meal dry and spread it on a tray. Dry it in the sun, in a dehydrator, or in the oven with the pilot light on. When it is dry, grind it in a spice mill to get a slightly grainy flour.

Acorn and Maple Mont Blanc

50g acorn flour
300 ml milk
60 ml maple syrup
pinch salt

100 ml cream
1 tsp sugar
½ vanilla bean scraped or a few drops vanilla essence (NOT imitation vanilla)

Bring the acorn flour, milk, maple syrup, and salt to a simmer. Simmer on the lowest heat, stirring often to prevent sticking, until a thick paste has formed. Using a piping bag, form the dessert into small mounds, or flat on a plate as pictured above. Refrigerate at least 30 minuets.

Meanwhile, make chantilly cream. Whip the cream, sugar, and vanilla together until stiff peaks form. Refrigerate.

Serve cold Mont Blanc topped with the chantilly cream.

As a side note, Mont Blanc is hugely popular in Japan. While I've never been told as much, I believe this is due to the textural similarity it has with adzuki bean paste. The grainy, sweet, redish goo that is the filling of choice for sweets in Japan is not at all unlike the chestnut (or acorn) dessert. Just an observation.