Scoop a pound of whole raw cashews from the bulk bin at New Seasons and the scale rings up $17.99 — one of the priciest things in the whole bulk bin aisle, and more than the in-shell pistachios sitting right beside it. A handful of specialty nuts climb higher (macadamias, pine nuts), but among the everyday nuts most of us actually keep around, cashews are about as expensive as it gets — many times the price of the peanuts a few bins over.

Ever wonder why?

The answer is one of the strangest stories hiding in your grocery cart, and it starts with a fact that catches most people off guard: the cashew isn't a nut. Getting it from the tree to your bulk bin is genuinely hazardous work — and that labor is most of what you're paying for.

Let's clear up some botanical terminology, because almost none of the "nuts" you buy are actually nuts.

A true tree nut is a hard-shelled fruit with a single seed that doesn't naturally split open — chestnuts, hazelnuts, acorns. Peanuts are legumes, seeds grown in a pod. And then there are drupes: fruits with a fleshy outer layer wrapped around a hard shell that holds a soft seed inside. Almonds, walnuts and cashews are all drupes.

But the cashew is strange even by drupe standards. The tree produces a pear-shaped "cashew apple," and the part you eat dangles off the bottom of it in a hard, kidney-shaped shell. That apple is a false fruit — it grows from the wrong part of the plant and isn't the result of pollination at all. The real fruit is the drupe hanging beneath it. And that's where the trouble starts.

Here's why a handful of cashews costs what it does.

The cashew apple is so perishable it starts turning within 24 hours of picking, which is why you've never seen one in a store. Most of it gets discarded. The valuable part — the seed — is the hard part to get at.

Fresh cashews are first spread out to dry in the sun for several days. Then workers load the dried drupes into drums and roast them at 350 degrees Fahrenheit. That heat does two things: it makes the shell brittle enough to crack, and it begins neutralizing the urushiol packed inside it.

If "urushiol" rings a bell, it should. It's the same compound that gives you a rash from poison ivy and poison oak — and in a cashew shell it's concentrated. It can cause chemical burns, and heated, it releases toxic fumes that demand ventilation and protective gear.

Then comes the part machines still can't do well: cracking each shell without crushing the seed inside. Despite decades of attempts at automation, human hands remain the best tool for the job, which means workers do it by hand, in heavy protection against any urushiol the roasting didn't burn off. After that, the freed kernels are dried again, stripped of a thin reddish skin called the testa, then graded by size and color. Perfect halves command top dollar; the broken bits get sold cheap into processed food.

So when you scoop cashews, you're paying for a fruit too fragile to ship, a seed that has to be roasted just to be safe to handle, and a shelling process that still resists the automation that made peanuts cheap. The peanut got cheap because a machine could do its work. The cashew never did. That's the whole story of the price tag.

If you go through cashews — and in this city, a lot of you do — a few notes.

One money-saving move: if you're blending cashews into cream or chopping them for a stir-fry, buy pieces, not whole. At New Seasons, organic raw cashew pieces are $12.99 a pound versus $17.99 for whole raw — nearly 30% less for a cashew you're about to pulverize anyway. Whole cashews only earn the premium when their looks matter, like a snack bowl or a garnish.

Prices swing a lot by store, too. New Seasons and the co-ops sit on the premium end; the bulk bins at discount grocers like WinCo run noticeably cheaper. So if cashews are a staple in your kitchen, that's where to scoop them. And for cooking volumes — the cashew chicken, the Indian and Southeast Asian dishes where cashews do real work — the Asian grocers along Southeast 82nd Avenue are worth the trip. Fubonn, Hong Phat and BooHan typically stock them at prices the big chains can't touch.

One more, in keeping with today's theme: given how much of that price is human labor — and how hazardous it is — it's worth knowing New Seasons also carries fair-trade Equal Exchange cashews at $19.99 a pound. A couple dollars more, pointed at the people doing the cracking. Alberta Co-op and People’s Food Co-op also feature ethically source — and priced — cashews.

And then there's the most Portland use of all. This city runs on cashews — they're the backbone of half the vegan dairy in town, from cashew cream to cashew "cheese" to the cashew-based queso at your favorite spot. That high fat content that makes them pricey is exactly what makes them blend into something convincingly creamy. Next time you're paying up for a tub of cashew cream, now you know the whole improbable journey that got it there.

So the next time you crack open a tin of cashews or stir them into dinner, take a second to appreciate the trip that seed took to reach you. It's a long, strange, slightly toxic one.