When a Nutcracker was more than a ballet
Christmas decorations at our house lead off with an entire militia of nutcrackers. The 16-inch ones line up on our front stairs, one stationed on each ascending step. There are a few 24-inch nutcrackers that are posted as sentries outside the door of the study and a pair that guard the living room.
Yet none has ever fulfilled its true purpose, which is to crack nuts.
It's interesting how nutcrackers have become such an icon of the Christmas season. And it's equally curious how rare it seems is to actually see a tray or bowl of nuts set out in people's homes. It's much more common to find an offering of shelled nuts when you call on friends or family.
So when there was a bowl of mixed nuts in the shell at my in-laws' home this past Thanksgiving, I grabbed a fist full of walnuts and the hand-held nutcracker.
Standing over the kitchen trashcan, I began to attack the walnut shells, which attracted the attention of a brother-in-law. Just enough pressure breached the shell, and I could quickly halve the nut, extracting two full pieces of delectable walnut meat.
"I've never seen anybody do this," my brother-in-law said. That's when I handed him a nut and the nutcracker.
There's an art to the process. You want to crack the shell but not shatter it, so the meat of the nut won't crumble. My brother-in-law disintegrated the first few he tried. Then he slowly got the hang of it, migrating towards the easier acorns and pine nuts.
Side-by-side over a trash can, we cracked nuts while cracking jokes, having a great time.
My folks had a killer nutcracker tray that was set out from Thanksgiving through New Year's--and always filled to the brim with nuts.
The round tray was made from the wood of a walnut tree, I think. Attached at the center was a towering mechanism designed to crack nutshells.
Regardless of size, the nut fit in the clamp and a geared pushdown lever did the busting. The right pressure cracked the shell and released the nut. The shells remained in the tray.
But even the practiced hand had to occasionally resort to a sinister looking pick to dig our parts of the nut from the shell.
Dad was partial to pecans, while Mom liked the almonds and shared my preference for walnuts. I always thought pecans tasted gritty while walnuts have a sweet flavor.
There's a memory of my folks sitting in the family room, Dad on the green-and-white striped loveseat and Mom cattycorner on the matching sofa, both leaning toward the round coffee table picking their favorite nuts from the tray and vying for use of the nutcracker.
Everywhere in our house there were the signs of our holiday traditions: the Nativity, the tree, the Wise Men on the mantle over the fireplace and mistletoe over each doorway.
While nowhere was a single nutcracker that looked like a soldier, there was always the squeak of a gear and the thump and crack of nut being broken open.
In my house, there are nutcrackers everywhere, while the only cracking sound is from the floorboards when the boys run amok on Christmas morning, heading for presents under the tree.
Copyright 2008 by David Falloure
