plum

We recently moved to Preston, which is in the north-east of Melbourne. Along with all of our belongings we took about 5 kilos of plums from the blood-plum tree in the garden of our former home. On the advice of my friend Meg - creator of the formidable plum cake once served at the Black Cat Cafe in Fitzroy -, I halved and stoned half of our crop and froze it. This will give me time to plan plum duff, plum crumble, and that German Black Plum Tart in the Claudia Roden book that I made once and loved so much. I might also glaze a bit of duck or pork with some plum puree ... The other, less ripe half, I made into jam. The recipe is adapted from one which is apparently Mrs Beeton's -

for every 450g of fruit, weighed before being stoned, allow 340g of sugar. Divide the plums, remove the stones, and reserve about half to two thirds of the stones for later. Lay the halved fruit face up in a deep dish and sprinkle with the sugar. Continue in layers, until you have used all the fruit and the sugar. Leave overnight, or for 24 hours.

Crack the plum stones and remove the kernels.

When you are ready to make the jam, empty the plums and sugar in a large pan, with the juice of a lemon, and the peel and pith of half of the lemon. Heat gently and simmer for about 20 minutes, throw in the kernels from the stones, then boil vigorously for 15 minutes, stirring all the time to prevent the jam burning on the bottom of the pan. Test for set-ness in the usual way. I place a saucer in the freezer for a while, then put a blob of jam on the saucer and return it to the freezer for 1 minute. If you can draw your finger through it and leave a distinct trail, the jam is set. If not, boil for a further 10 - 15 minutes and test it again.

What I like about this method is it's slow and meditative quality, stretching out the process out over a day or a day and a half. I like the pleasing progress of the plums as the sugar draws out the juices, and the absence of the need to heat sugar in oven and test the jam with a thermometer. It's a recipe with a gratifyingly chunky result.

There is some doubt these days as to whether Mrs Beeton actually wrote, or even tested her recipes ... but I nevertheless like the simplicity and the fact that the method assumes that you have some common sense.

In between halving, sprinkling, cracking and freezing, I went to our local grocery store for a look around and a bit of a shop for necessities. The woman in the store said that she calls these "tiger plums", but the box they are displayed in said they were a "dappled dandy"

the skin is a weird and slightly unnerving dappled green-yellow and brownish red. The inside is so beautiful, so wonderful ... and tastes something like a cross between a plum and a strawberry. Sweet, tart, slightly woody.