From a life in the corporate world to a small farm. My new work colleagues eat grass or lay eggs. I've got a lot to learn about things that just seem to happen when nature becomes your new boss.
Thursday, 6 April 2017
The fruit formally known as Quince
We discovered a quince tree on our property last year. It took us a while. I had walked past the fallen quince on the ground on a number of occasions and never questioned it being there. In fact, for a while I thought it was Bennie's tennis ball. Eventually it was picked up and marvelled at. And later we discovered there were two. Not quite enough to rush headlong into a quince jelly making exercise, and not even enough to produce the smallest sliver of paste, so I elected to bake them. There aren't too many recipes for baking quinces in such minimal quantities and the end result was similar to having them placed them for a long period of time in an aluminium smelter. Let's just say there is now a permanent scar on that baking tray. What a mess. So this year, again this neglected tree has somehow produced another two quinces despite of us. I won't be baking them this year as I have a decent recipe for a chicken casserole with quinces and green olives (a Matthew Evans one I think) that I know won't injure any baking dishes. This morning I noted that Lewis our 2IC rooster was on quince minding duty and expect he would probably alert me should said quince fall from tree. It's amazing to think that fruit trees can still produce despite our neglect. Maybe it just likes Lewis's company.