The medlar tree produced really well this year. I also, for the first time, actually got round to picking the fruit. If truth be told, I picked some so I could take a bag to my friends George and Tina. I know they will make jelly with them, this of course means I must make jelly with mine – this growing food business is very competitive!
So I late last Saturday I went out and picked the rest of the medlars. It was getting dark so the photos I took are rubbish – sorry.
Some of the medlars had started to blet on the tree – blet is a fancy word for to go rotten. This is OK – you need to let them blet – you can’t use them until they have gone rotten. I have piled up the medlars in trays and left them in various places around the house slowly going rotten. It is so my kind of fruit.
Here are a couple of bletting and not quite bletted medlars
I told Mike and Cath about the medlars and they quoted Chaucer at me – I love medievalists. I learnt that medlars were called “open-ers” in Chaucer’s time and that old men, like medlars, cannot be ripe until they are rotten – til we be roten kan we nat be rype [The Reeve’s Prologue 21] ??. Medlars are still now sometimes called cat’s arse …. I am saying nothing.
This weekend I am making medlar jelly and maybe medlar cheese.
N.B. and maybe there are piglets on the horizon too – squeak ……