What does an acorn look like?
Recently, my neighbour in our village near the DMZ had hundreds of acorns laid out in front of his house in preparation for being soaked so the bitter tannins are leached away to make acorn jelly or dotori-mok. In this post, I indulge my interest in the oak tree again, and dig a little into some fascinating European oak ‘politics’.
Notes from Central France
I’m staying in my house in central France – in the far north of the Department of the Allier, trying to keep warm. Just down the road from our house spreads the immense Forêt de Tronçais, which, at 26,000 acres, is one of the largest stands of oak in western Europe. Today’s post considers what human history might look like to these oak trees.
Acorn for Dinner!
In a previous post I mentioned that here in Korea, eating acorns is still popular. They usually use powdered acorn to make a jelly called Dotori-muk. This weekend, my partner, Eungbok, made some Dotori-muk with flour she purchased from a chef colleague who gathers the acorns herself around where she lives in south Seoul.
Acorns
I’ve been getting to know the oak tree. Turns out there are more kinds than I expected. Over 500, in fact. But in the UK and France there are basically just two indigenous species: the Pedunculate oak (Quercus robur) and the Sessile oak (Quercus petraea). Here in Korea, there are six indigenous species, and they are very different one from the other. Within just half a mile of our house we’ve identified five. Here are their acorn