Be careful what you wish for. Indeed. But one only realises this truism retrospectively. In early spring, I’d admire the blossoms on the trees and wish for a good harvest. Dreamily, I’d imagine making jams and pies and crumbles – all the ways I could enjoy and preserve my fruits.
Wandering about the garden, complimenting the trees on their constellations of blossoms; stroking their leaves to show them that I care; I hadn’t quite thought through the consequences of my actions. Yes, like King Charles, I do talk to my trees and perhaps I communicated my desires a little too well this year. Because, this year, to counter the absolute failure of my vegetable crops, my fruit trees have outdone themselves.
A sweet start
The first fruits to appear were the berries: raspberry, mulberry, blackcurrant and redcurrant. Each morning, I’d toddle down the garden to pick what had appeared – some going into the bowl with my cereal and some directly to the freezer.
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Next up were my sweet plums – early and delicious. I’d serve them instead of biscuits and give them away to anyone who wanted them. So far, so good. I had plenty to freeze and plenty to share. Everything was under control.
Then the freezer began to fill and more and more fruits ripened. Some, like the greengages and alpine strawberries were consumed immediately after picking, but the rest, well, no-one could eat that many.
Apples, apples every where
My fabulous old apple tree clearly liked the wet spring and warm summer, because it has excelled all expectations. Every day I pick the windfalls, and every day there are more.
My miniature Russet apples were ripe, so they have been picked and stored in the fruit bowl. Extra apples have been set aside to give to friends. This afternoon, I’ll need to make some apple puree – a perfect baking supplement for those who don’t use eggs. By putting the puree in two tablespoon amounts in small plastic bags and freezing, I shall have enough egg replacements to last the year!
Waste not, want not
As anyone who has read my blog will know, I hate waste. My gorgeous daughter-in-law, Genevieve, gave me the perfect recipe book: PlantYou: Scrappy Cooking. In it, the author shows you how to use up all the scraps that otherwise might make kitchen waste. I was fascinated.
When preparing apples, there are equal quantities of cores and skin as flesh. Even these can be used and only then, the left-overs thrown into the compost. Okay, it is a bit fiddly and time consuming, but I love a challenge and the opportunity to use up everything.
Take these – and make these –
My apple cider vinegar is happily burbling away on the window sill and the apple scrap ‘honey’ is in the fridge. The ‘honey’ is perfect for porridge and yogurt and delicious on toast. It will keep in the fridge for a month, though I suspect it will keep a bit longer than that. And if you don’t want to do it straight away, store a large freezer bag full of scraps in the freezer and make on a rainy afternoon. (Sadly, I made mine on a boiling hot day making myself and the kitchen, very hot indeed. The fridge objected and promptly konked out. Luckily for me, my husband guessed what was wrong and both the fridge and myself cooled down and went back into operation!)
Food for free
Perhaps it is my Celtic ancestry or perhaps it is my innate love of foraging, but there few things that give me more joy than finding food for free. Mariia is clearly similarly inclined. When we came back from the West Country proudly bearing our full punnet of blackberries, she produced the 1.5 kilos that she had picked with Hermione!
But one can never have enough berries and the season is too short to tarry. Our local park has a magnificent and very old mulberry tree. As a consequence, it has the biggest, fattest mulberries around. Determined to get a little bit of its bounty, we all set off one warm summer evening. We returned with another 1.5 kg.
Image: Karen Costello-McFeat
Unfortunately, many park visitors are not aware that they are edible (though I tell everyone that passes) or perhaps they know and don’t want stained clothing. Nothing is entirely free. The price tag for blackberries is scratches; mulberries, purple blooms on stained hands and tops.
Swap
And if you have more than enough of one thing, then barter is the way to go. My book group buddy Lesley was leaving town for a few days, but her plums were ready to pick. In a wonderfully sociable way, she invited us round to harvest them and have a cup of tea.
I brought a basket of apples, and Viv brought some delicious tomatoes fresh from her allotment. Everyone left happy! I made more jam and of course, had to check that it was okay. It was a sacrifice I was prepared to make.
Share
For me, the most wonderful part of having a good harvest is that I can share it. Anyone who comes to the door is likely to leave with a bag of something. And I can make jams and honeys and vinegars to give as tiny gifts too. My great friend Liz, whose apple harvest is even greater than my own, has her apples pressed and gives bottles of her truly delicious juice away. When I took the children to primary school, an elderly chap would leave a wheelbarrow filled with apples outside his house on the route, and many an apple crumble was made from his generosity.
When we have plenty, it makes sense to share it. In fact, the only thing I have had a shortage of is jam jars. I sent a plea to all my friends and now, I hope, I have enough. (And some will be returned filled!)
How do you like your fruit?
This year’s abundance is causing me to think hard about how to utilise and store it successfully. I’ve made crumbles, jams, vinegars and ‘honey’. I’d like to try making pickled blackberries and to attempt drying mulberries. My freezer is full, so I’ll need to think more laterally. I could make apple strings for dried apples, apple butter and if I get more adventurous still, fruit powders.
Nature marches on and there is no time to waste. There are still pears and quinces to harvest, so it will be late autumn when I can put my preserving tools away.
Sometimes, I wonder why I bother. After all, the supermarket stocks everything I need. But where, I ask you, is the fun in that?