Actually there is a good reason: oak trees take a LONG time to grow. Unreasonably long. And they’re not easy to breed.
The fun things you learn from required reading (Guns, Germs & Steel is the school-wide book this semester) (and by reading I mean I read most of it and now it’s sitting in my to read pile while I reread Harry Potter)
I have years to maturity for the White Oak (Quercus alba) listed as 20 years. Pecans(Carya illinoensis) are listed as 10-20 years. As pecans have been bred for quite some time I think it is safe to assume that length of juvenility is not the significant barrier to breeding tasty acorns.
Hmm. The school I attended K - 5th grade had lots of oak trees, but I think they must have been red oaks; the meat of the acorns was always a bright orange color. (A friend was convinced that these acorns were used to produce American cheese.)
My trees (real giants) have a two year cycle. Big year, little year, etc. Since it’s an odd year, then it’s a big one. And the noise this year is the worst ever. Incredible crack-clunks as the nut breaks out of the cap and then hits the house or deck.
Not all that easy to find nuts lying around. Lots of caps though. Bushy tailed rats take care of them quickly. (So the neighbor’s cats are in the yard a lot.) Most of the seemingly intact nuts on the ground are hollow or rotted.
“Nut goes into the yard, squirrel goes into the yard. Cats’ in the yard. Neighbor’s cats. Farewell and adieu my fair Spainish ladies…”
The alternate bearing of trees is a brilliant system employed to control bugs. A bountiful year cries a large bug population which in turn leads to a surplus of buggie offspring the following year. That year, of course, there is very little food and so they die off and leave few offspring for the following year when the acorns are everywhere.
I reread that chapter of Guns, Germs, and Steel. Oaks take ten years to mature (as opposed to, say, almonds which take 2-3). And the tannin is controlled by a bunch of genes, so you can’t accurately predict if it’ll be safe. And most oaks are planted by squirrels, so the trees don’t ‘care’* about what we think.
Minimum seed bearing age for Quercus acutissima (Sawtooth) is 5 years. Minimum for Q. petraea (Durmast) is 40 years, according to the US Forest Service. One need not predict the tannin levels. Sampling and selecting and crossing will certainly, eventually, produce the desired result.
Furthermore, after years if experience, I have found that most trees do not care what I think.
Yeah, I suppose we did. Although I think my county wasn’t officially in drought conditions at all. PA overall has had a bad one (and still do I’m told.) I’ll try to dig up and see if I can find official numbers.
August West walks into a bar carrying a brown paper bag. After requesting a beer from the bartender, August takes his time enjoying the brew, leaving the closed paper bag on the bar. After a bit the bar starts filling with other customers, especially women. August scans his surroundings, still finds them wanting, and motions the bartender for another glass.
By the time August has finished his second glass, a cursory glance finds the mood has definitely changed. In fact, August finds himself surrounded by women and a slight smile begins on his face. At this point, he opens the bag before him, reaches in and grabs a few of the things it holds. Cracking the soft skin in his hands, August pops a few into his mouth. After several minutes, a curious damsel approaches and asks August was is in the bag that he is enjoying so much. August replies they are just some nuts from my yard.
The lass asks if he is willing to share, but August declines. You see, he says to her, they are not peanuts, or beer nuts but acorns. And acorns have special properties that affect only men. How so, she asks him.
Acorns are a male aphrodisiac he says, but offers nothing more.
More curious than ever now, she pushes further. Never heard of that she says. You must be pulling my leg.
Oh no, August replies. You heard about them back in grade school, but were never told of the details.
You see, he says to her, mighty oaks from little acorns grow.
You know what would go good with acorns? Beer made from Oreo cookies.
Admitedly, it didn’t hold much head, but after three months in storage, it’s not a bad stout. I don’t know how many I have left because I’m still unpacking.
I’ve been saying I’m going to try eating acorns for a while now. I think tomorrow might be the day it happens. Apparently the ones from some of the evergreen oaks are the best.