Nothing but the fruit…


There were these 2 plums…how I love plums, they are so pretty as well as juicy and delicious. I picked one of them out of the fruit basket and I saw there a couple of apples, we wouldn’t eat them as we constantly forget to take food items to work with us…

Not wishing to waste said fruits, I resolved to make something of them. Rustling around in the freezer were a few blackberries, picked before the mists of Autumn set in.


Aiming for speed I wanted to simply lay the fruits atop the pastry. My major concern was that there would be a soggy bottom, but I can faithfully report that the pastry was cooked right through and although it was softened slightly on the top side from the juices, the underside was crispily well baked. I picked up my slice and ate it without any hint of floppiness.

One late summer at our home in the Pyrenees our ragtailed collective friends (known as The Traveling Wilburys) decided that we would forage that evening’s dessert from the local hedgerow. Mata Hari , myself and I think Marmoset was there (although the trips seem tomeld into one these days) threw ourselves into our task. Stepney…. did a little work but was quite frankly a passenger, and our dearest DJ mearly fussed and fretted, managing to scratch his arms and legs and barely plopping a plump fruit into the trug. How we laughed at him for not being ‘out doorsy’…. Revenge was his, for later, when the dusky beauties were esconced in buttery pastry, The DJ secretly fashioned the tarts into, let’s say some rather rude shapes…

Penis Pies, as they were later christened, still make us laugh… DJ! you still have us laughing you little devil. Back to the tale.

So my thoughts for today, uncouth tarts to oneside (apologies to my aunty Enfield for both mention of tarts and P Pies) are, that we all have a few fruits left at the bottom of the fruit bowl from time to time, it doesn’t really matter which ones they are. Before these plumptuous beauties moulder away: Sprinkle the chopped fruits in a little sugar or honey, dowse them liberally in ground cinammon and maybe a few turns of the black pepper mill and pop them atop a bit of ready rolled pastry before folding all the sides in to make a pretty, sugar crusted frill. Whizz the galette through the oven for half and hour before slathering with cream. Not a recipe, a thought for the day… knowing you have saved a few errant fruits the crime of being wasted.

Happy thanksgiving… peace and love.





5 thoughts on “Nothing but the fruit…”

  1. These memories make me realise that our dear DJ will always be part of our lives and still making us laugh. I seem to remember stinging nettles and doc leaves being involved in this event. Cheered me up no end this morning. Thank you Poppy x

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