Trifoliate orange (hardy citrus) grows like an evergreen weed around here. The harvest is ending… What should I make with them this year? (last year I made liqueur)
Archive for fruit
This post first appeared – with minor modifications and without pictures – as an article “In season now: our fascinating native pawpaw” in the September 22, 2011 issue of the Rappahannock News.
My favorite banana custard involves no cooking whatsoever. No, it doesn’t involve opening a package of store-bought “custard” either. In fact, it requires a stroll along the creek with my nose up in late summer: I am looking for native wild pawpaws (Asimina triloba) that are ripening now and in early fall, sometimes as late as October – depending on the tree and its location. They aren’t showy, but they are easy to recognize: small understory trees with large vaguely-tropical-looking drooping leaves that turn a bright pure yellow in mid-fall. They grow mostly along bottomland creeks, forming ever expanding thickets, often at the edge of the woods. Read more
This post first appeared – with minor modifications and without pictures – as an article “A Fig Tree In Virginia” in the September 8, 2011 issue of the Rappahannock News. It’s a tad late (I know!) since we are at the end of fig season here in the Northern Virginia Piedmont. I originally wrote the article in mid-August but it had to be bumped a few times… Still, there are figs to be harvested at the moment, although the recent massive rains have not done them any good…
Everyone should have a grapevine and a fig tree, said one of my favorite writers, Henry Mitchell. I – and a long list of people, some quite famous – thoroughly agree. In fact, Mitchell was only repeating a biblical phrase, long used to mean peace and prosperity: ”each man under his own vine and fig tree” (1 Kings 4:25).
Figs have a longer history in Virginia than you might have thought. They actually go back, quite a bit in human history – and prehistory: figs may well have been the first cultivated plant. Read more
a creamy luscious fruit redolent of mango, guava and banana…
I first encountered really fresh cherries when I was 15 – a defining age to meet a flat of just picked sun-gorged brilliant cherries, I can tell you. On the tropical island where I grew up, cherries do not fruit – they grow, but without a cold dormancy period, they do not fruit. Papayas, mangoes, longans, cherymoyas, pineapple, yes. But cherries are an exotic expensive luxury that travels a long way to get to Reunion Island – like litchis in Virginia. So I was 15, my family was living in Provence for year, and Provence has wonderful cherries. I was hooked. Read more
Until recently I thought tender all-summer long rhubarb was available only in place like England, the Pacific Northwest or Maine. Places with cool and moist summers. Places like Vachon Island where my blog pal Tom of Tall Clover Farm harvest armfuls upon armfuls of crimson stemmed monsters. Makes me turn green with envy…
I was convinced that rhubarb in Virginia was a fleeting all-too brief treasure, the plants sending flowers forth as soon as it got too hot and then considerably slowing down for the summer. Because this denizen of the mountains of Central Asia likes it cool. And since we rarely have a real long cool even-temperatured spring here (let alone a mild summer!), I thought: in Virginia you got rhubarb in May and that was it.
Anyway, that is indeed what I thought until very very recently. Until last week as a matter of fact. Read more
I have know for a while that autumn olives (Elaeagnus umbellata) were edible. I just never took the time to go after them. But this year seems to be the year when I started to forage more consistently (bird cherries, wineberries, elderberries, chestnuts, Japanese quince, pawpaws, wild grapes etc) and so when a shrub of autumn olives shimmering in yesterday’s morning sun called to me, I grabbed a bucket and I started to pick. Let me tell you what a nice way to while away an hour it was (and do something useful too!). Warm (but not too warm) sun on my back, the berries like little prayer grains under my fingers, my mind ticking all the reasons such a cursed plant (by some) provides for thankfulness. Because, truly, what’s not to like about autumn olives? Read more
Picking up strawberries in the garden on a warm day is a true sensual experience.
My eyes are attracted to the bright vermilion peeking not-so-shyly from under dark green leaves; my fingers reach eagerly yet carefully for the plump berries; I can feel the hot noon sun radiating on my back ; the whole garden is humming around me; the heady perfume of strawberry hangs heavily in the air, and finally … the taste of that warm ripe strawberry explodes in my mouth.
Yes indeed that dainty delicacy is full of pleasures. When picked ripe – at its peak.
Aren’t they beautiful?
They are earlier than the last few years, I may be able to pick in late May. While winter was cold and snowy (which currants like), the ground was protected from extreme cold by the blanket of snow – something we don’t have very often in Virginia. So the ground may actually have been a little warmer thanks to the snow cover. And of course, April was warm. So… ripe currants soon!
Soon I’ll be making The Easiest Jelly In The World again. Oh, we’ll be eating them with a sprinkling of sugar and other berries too, a very refreshing little fruit salad, but red currant jelly is an absolute favorite here. I also freeze ripe berries to throw a handful when making jams with low pectin fruit later in the summer (red to go with cherries and strawberries; white currants for peaches and apricots).
Anybody growing currants out there? what do you make with them?
Shall we talk about ground cherries?
mmm… say you politely, really? Ground cherries?
You are not the only one to wonder… the year I gave ground cherry jam to friends for Christmas, I got some puzzled looks: this is cherry? you grind them? why? that’s an unusual color… and what about all the seeds?…
Yes, it needed a better name, and it actually goes by other names. But “ground cherry” is the name under which I initially encountered the fruit in English.
Curiously enough, it was in Quebec.
Many stores were selling ground cherry jam. I tried it. Clearly not cherries (you know, Prunus cerasus). It did not take too long to find out this was the tiny fruit of my childhood, tomate poc-poc, Physalis peruviana. It’s also goes by the name of Cape Gooseberry. But it is no more a gooseberry than it is a cherry. A close cousin of tomatillo Physalis ixocarpa), it belongs it the nightshade family, along with tomatoes, potatoes, peppers and eggplants. Read more