It’s that time of year again. Apparently six months since last post, which means the board software will bother everyone who posted in this thread. Sorry about that. But I have a story to relate, one that proves that what goes around, comes around.
But first, an update on my own medlar tree. There were a dozen or so fruits on it - I say were, because the bastard squirrels took some. I have netted the rest. In truth, there were so few and they were so small (first year tree) that the loss is inconsequential in terms of, say, making jelly - I’ll have to buy some for that. But I was looking forward to enjoying some of my own, home grown medlars, so yes I am annoyed. It’s not as if I wasn’t warned, either - The Jam Lady said that might happen.
Ah yes, The Jam Lady.
Fruits immediately prior to netting, BTW:
Two years ago was the last time we managed to leave these shores, until this last week when we got away again. On the previous occasion, we saw our friends G & P, who live in Normandy; and G gave us a jar of her home made grape jelly, which was delicious. It would be nice to say that prodded me in the direction of jam making, but it’s not true. But as luck would have it, I have taken up jam making, and so, back in Normandy and seeing G & P again, I was able to present G with a jar of my own home-made Damson Jam in return - nice to be able to do that.
Now, The Jam Lady. From the Foraging And Preserving thread.
Here’s an aside: whilst I was banged up with sciatica, we went out to a small local market, and there I ran across someone selling a wide range of homemade jams, jellies and pickles. The Jam Lady, she styles herself. She saw me eyeing up her wares (professional interest, y’know?), and engaged me in conversation, so I recounted my recent activities.
“Mulberry?” she said, “I’ve never made that.” Heh - one up to me.
In an effort to recover and reestablish her dominance she asked: “Have you ever heard of medlars?”
“I have a tree,” I told her.
I wasn’t trying to be mean, but did it ever take the wind out of her sails.
Back to my friend G, and chatting about jam making; and my explanation that it all stemmed from my first encounter with that most mysterious of fruits, the medlar.
“Oh yes”, says G, “They grow wild in the hedgerow behind the house.”
“They what??”
In an odd way, it would have been nice if The Jam Lady had been there, just to see what went around coming back around. But yes, they do grow wild in the hedgerow behind the house. Here they are.
More updates in due course, I hope.
j