Harvest Season
One of these gentle humid fall days in the afternoon and my garden looks like peaceful composition, tenderly dying. Fruits are falling, into the dark creamy land, deadhead flowers send their colorful compliments, a late kiss of life, on brown shafts. Cobwebbed. They die of thirst. It seems. Too much rain. Overkill. Nature is fetching back my garden – once again.
Right down at the bottom between the cabin for the canards and the compost pile nearby the Reineclaude, a noble plum sapling, she is standing there: a bulky quince, which, since she was planted by grandpa, yield fruits each year. Fuzzy green-yellow bowl pears on black branches. Now is the time to pick them. It was chilly enough the last days. I washed them, removed the floccus and set them aside in the cellar. Â Far away from the apples…
soulpics 
What will you do with the qunices in the cellar far away from the apples? They wait for being processed to bitter sweet marmelade, liqueur, schnaps, cake …
Good ideas, thx. Klaus, will start with an apple-quince cake or small tartlets…
Don’t forget the liquid products out of the quince, which I prefer. But I only had two of these fruit this year, so I got only a minimum of marmelade. Reasons? Hmm, the tree was not planted by a grand-pa. I really would like to try the grand-pa’s fruit.
…du meinst bestimmt Schnaps. Würde ich auch gern selbermachen. Hab schon erste Überlegungen angestellt, zu brennen….und den “Klaren” in ein altes Sherry-Fass zu füllen. Bin noch gar nicht dazu gekommen Marmelade oder Gelee zu machen, wollte sie mit Vanillepulver und Zitronenschale verfeinern…Ich halt Dich auf dem Laufenden, viele Grüße, Thomas