With an abundant harvest of sun-ripened apricots from the
Towerwater orchard, not even the December heat could deter us from making our
100-apricot chutney. Looking at the bowl of apricot pits, I decided to find out
how one can use the apricot pits instead of just throwing them away.
De White Industries in Montagu, where we buy our broken
apricot pits for surfacing our pathways, must produce large quantities of
apricot kernels, and I am sure that it does not go to waste.
 |
| Broken apricot pits at De White Industries in Montagu |
The kernels from broken pits can be repurposed into
high-value products rather than wasted. They can be processed to create oils
for cosmetics and cooking and used as a marzipan-like flavouring in liqueurs.
A marzipan-flavoured liqueur is what attracted my attention.
I discovered that liqueur made from apricot kernels is called Noyaux
(pronounced nwoy-oh), and the word comes from the French term for “kernel” or
“pit.”
Crème de Noyaux is a traditional French liqueur where fruit pits impart a distinctive almond-like flavour to the alcohol due to compounds also found in bitter almonds. Even though it comes from fruit pits, noyaux tastes like almond. This is because both contain benzaldehyde, the compound responsible for that flavour.
It seems that throughout the centuries, we humans lived a dangerous and experimental life, discovering what can be eaten and what should be avoided. I prefer to learn from other people's mistakes where dangerous foods are concerned. Apricot kernels can be dangerous because they naturally contain compounds that can release cyanide in one’s body. Apricot kernels contain a substance called amygdalin. When you chew or digest the kernel, your body breaks down the amygdalin and produces hydrogen cyanide, a highly toxic chemical.
This process is a classic example of a natural plant defence
mechanism. Inside an apricot kernel lies a quiet but powerful defence. The seed
stores amygdalin and enzymes separately, harmless on their own. But when an
animal bites into the kernel, these components mix and trigger a reaction that
releases hydrogen cyanide. This toxin quickly interferes with the body’s
ability to use oxygen, discouraging the predator from eating more. This clever
system, known as cyanogenic glycoside defence, allows the plant to protect its
seed only when it is under threat, ensuring its survival in the next
generation.
The rule is that one never consumes Noyaux or Crème de
Noyaux in large quantities. Always use it sparingly to add that seductive
almond-like marzipan flavour to cocktails, drizzle over vanilla ice cream, add
to whipped cream, or incorporate a small amount into custards, panna cotta, or
almond-flavoured pastries for added depth.
To add to the living-on-the-edge feel of making noyaux, it
was historically coloured pink with cochineal, a natural red dye derived from
the dried bodies of female scale insects that live on prickly pear cacti in
South and North America. The insects produce carminic acid to deter predators,
which is harvested to create brilliant red, crimson, or scarlet shades for
food, cosmetics, and textiles.
One would think that if plants and insects produce toxins to
deter predators, humans will take notice and say, “Thanks, we got the memo; we
will leave you in peace.” Instead, we rush to make extracts and liqueurs
containing cyanide-producing kernels and then look around for some other
deterrent to colour the liqueur with.
Finding a reliable recipe for noyaux was not easy. It seems
everyone uses a recipe that suits their available number of apricot kernels.
After cracking the 100 pips, I had the generous amount of 100 apricot kernels.
The kernels did not look dangerous at all, but being forewarned is to be
forearmed, I believe, and I needed to find the right ratio of pips to alcohol.
Most recipes I found used 80-proof alcohol. Proof is
calculated as exactly double the alcohol by volume (ABV) percentage (e.g., 40 x
2 = 80). I decided to use a local witblits with 55% alcohol by volume; 55%
alcohol by volume (ABV) is 110 proof in the United States. Apparently, using
110-proof (55% ABV) alcohol to make noyaux (apricot kernel liqueur) can produce
a better, more robust extract compared to standard 80-proof (40% ABV) vodka, as
it is a more effective solvent for extracting the essential oils, aroma, and
volatile compounds from the kernels.
The charm of traditional French homemade noyaux lies in its
"snout-to-tail," no-waste philosophy, transforming discarded stone
fruit pits (apricot, peach, or cherry) into a sophisticated, almond-scented
liqueur. This old-fashioned, rustic process evokes a sense of country living,
where patience, foraging, and artisan techniques create a deeply fragrant
product far superior to commercial alternatives.
A popular, charming method in French households was not just
to make one batch, but to keep a jar of alcohol on the counter, adding fresh
kernels as they became available throughout the season, creating a continuous
supply of liqueur.
Despite noyaux being made in households all over the world
for centuries without recorded fatalities, modern food safety authorities
advise extreme caution. Because the concentration of amygdalin varies
significantly between different fruits and even individual pits, it is
difficult to ensure safety in a home kitchen environment.
Scared half to death by visions of my homemade noyaux
dispatching most of my family and friends and, on the other hand, seduced by
the nostalgia and tradition of this loved ingredient for food and drinks, I
allowed myself to be seduced by the prospect of the flavour of almonds and
marzipan filling the Towerwater kitchen.
Towerwater Crème de Noyaux or (Nou-ja laat ek maar die kans
vat)
Ingredients:
80 apricot kernels (the inside of the pips)
750 ml witblits (55% alcohol by volume)
1/2 to 1 cup simple syrup, to taste.
Instructions:
Crack open the hard outer shells of the stone fruit pits to
remove the soft inner seed (the kernel). I also crushed some of the kernels, as
suggested by some recipes.
Some recipes also recommend roasting the kernels to reduce
the amygdalin. You can give the kernels a light to medium roasting (300°F–350°F
/ 150°C–180°C) for 10–15 minutes to avoid burning.
Place the crushed/whole kernels in a large, clean glass jar
and cover with the witblits or vodka. Seal the jar tightly and store in a cool,
dark place for 2 to 3 months. Shake the jar every few days.
After maceration, strain the liquid through a coffee filter
or fine muslin (chinois). Add simple syrup (sugar dissolved in water) to reach
the desired sweetness.
Bottle the strained liqueur and let it rest for another
month before use to allow the flavors to mellow.
Note: To make a simple syrup, mix 1 cup of water and 1 cup
of granulated white sugar in a small saucepan. Heat over medium heat, stirring
occasionally, until the sugar completely dissolves. You do not need to bring it
to a rolling boil; just make sure the liquid is clear. Remove from heat and
allow it to cool before adding it to the noyaux.
If it seems as if I like living dangerously by venturing
into making potions containing cyanide, rest assured that I have done extensive
research about the safety of homemade noyaux. I would probably not recommend it
to an overcautious food lover, but the secret is to use it moderately; a small
amount of homemade noyaux can go a long way.
After waiting three months for the kernels to macerate in
the witblits, I could bottle my own Towerwater Noyaux, or as I would say in
Afrikaans, Nou-ja, laat ek maar die kans vat. The homemade noyaux possesses a
seductive, complex flavour profile often described as a "forgotten"
luxury, balancing intense sweetness with a sophisticated bitter edge. It is
characterized by an intoxicating marzipan aroma and a rich, velvety texture,
making it an essential, yet assertive, addition to cocktails and desserts.
Now I only need to let it rest for a month before using it,
and it is killing me not to use it immediately (nudge-nudge, wink-wink).
