The thing about dogs arse fruit, Nottingham Medlars in polite society, is that you need to wait until they are bletted ( that is to say gone beyond ripe towards rotten) before you pick them. Explaining that to my assistant, son and heir Joshua, made it hard to convince him to taste one.
But they taste amazing and with a texture of a bit like stewed apple with custard with a hint of spice. And thus yesterday Joshua and i went into the upper orchard which we planted five years ago to re-stake a few trees which have become bent in the wind. I hope they are now more straightened out ready to grow higher rather than outwards. And then we harvested the Nottingham medlar tree as you can see below.
Tonight I should empty out each fruit to stew and jar as something to enjoy with prunes and oats for a winter breakfast.
