Advertisement Close

Mediterranean Cooking from the Garden with Linda Dalal Sawaya—Making Nocino: Italian walnut liqueur

posted on: Jul 15, 2015

English walnuts © linda dalal sawaya 2015

June 24 is the feast day of San Giovanni celebrated in Italy, and on that day I was out in my garden just like the Italians were, picking young, green tender walnuts to make an inky brew that I’d heard about but never tasted: nocino—walnut liqueur. The odd impetus for this resulted from the massive housing development around us and the squirrels having lost their habitat, including the walnut orchards that were in our neighborhood. My huge English walnut tree that in the 1980s provided a generous year long supply of excellent walnuts in October—beginning on the 12th to be precise—was no longer mine. For many years, I’d gather eight huge bags full of walnuts to husk and dry for winter, spring, and summer eating. For holiday baklawa, Easter mammouls, and even for making mhammara, a fabulous walnut red pepper dip. An arduous but rewarding process, this provided an abundance of walnuts to share with friends during the holidays as well as for our own pantry.

In recent years, however, the starving squirrels and chipmunks have begun devouring the walnuts by mid-August and come October, there are none left. My little dog responds to the word “squirrel” in a comic heartbeat and chases them up the tree. They gleefully fly through the branches dropping husks on us while making loud scraping sounds with their chipmunk teeth, taunting us down below, as we try to relax in the hammock on the dog days of summer.

Last year, someone suggested making nocino—a perfect way to at least enjoy some walnuts before the squirrels wipe them out.

On June 24, in Italy and in Portland where I live, the walnuts are young and tender enough to be cut through with a knife. Walnut husks are deep brown and make a potent dye, so take care to wear gloves when handling this stone fruit. Historically walnut dye was used for hair, as an ink, and to dye wool into a beautiful brown color.

English walnuts © linda dalal sawaya 2015

To make nocino, find an organic walnut tree, a fabulous jar, like my “handmade in Italy” green glass jar, and fill it with quartered young walnuts, husk and all. Add lemon zest, cinnamon sticks, cloves, and a split vanilla bean to the jar and fill it with Everclear. Cover the jar and let it brew for 40 days. The recipe is easy, it just requires patience!

nocino walnut liqueur in the making © linda dalal sawaya 2015

Everclear is something I’d never heard of, but I marched out of the Oregon liquor store with a giant bottle to begin the nocino process. This big bottle of Everclear began what became my year long experimentation in the kitchen with liqueurs: after the nocino, there were figs, after the figs, there were plums, bringing us around to winter and the limoncello with lemons I brought back from LA, to my spring rucolino with arugula, and last week’s start on apricot liqueur!

nocino walnut liqueur—day 2 in Everclear © linda dalal sawaya 2015

At the 40 day point, make a simple syrup with 4 cups of water and 3 cups of sugar, cool completely to room temperature. Filter the alcohol from the walnuts and spices, and add the cooled simple syrup to it. Once again, put the jar aside for 40 more days or wait until Christmas to decant it into small bottles for friends. The black, nutty infused alcohol is rich, potent, sweet, and smooth after months of curing. It can be enjoyed in a tiny glass, drizzled over ice cream, or even as a flavoring for homemade ice cream or custards.

nocino walnut liqueur after months of curing © linda dalal sawaya 2015

What we know as English walnut trees originated in Iran (Persia) and used to be called Persian walnuts. A traditional Mediterranean way to preserve green walnuts is a rather elaborate process involving a sugar syrup. Another is to pickle them in a salt brine first and end with a spiced vinegar to preserve them. For me, the idea of making nocino has the most appeal and my friends love the results! And the squirrels didn’t seem to mind, either. Salute!

—Linda Dalal Sawaya is a Portland artist, cook, Master Gardener, daughter of Lebanese immigrants, and author of Alice’s Kitchen: Traditional Lebanese Cooking

Remember, as my mother Alice said, “If you make it with love, it will be delicious!”

story and all photos © linda dalal sawaya 2015