It has been said before: the garden is the cook’s muse When my mind is empty (“what should I write about today?”), I just take a walk among my vegetable beds and fruit trees and find that the answer is right at my feet or in the leaves above. The garden fertilizes my imagination and loosens my pen. On my own hillside right now, I am watching two old wild plum trees heave under a load of fruit, their branches weighed nearly to the ground. The trees were here when we bought the property 30 years ago and most every year, we have more plums than we could ever use.
Wild plums are a common feature of the Berkeley hills. On neighborhood walks I see them lining sidewalks or at the back of vacant lots, hanging over fences and or standing solo and incongruous at the edge of a park. From deep purple to shades of orange, yellow, and dusky red, I want to believe they might taste as pretty as they look. But in the raw, wild plums are aggressively tart; and the sour smack gives way to disappointingly insipid flesh. They can’t compete with the common cultivars, the heirlooms, or the apricot crossover species. It’s no wonder that besides me, only the stealth foragers, I’m told, go after the fruit.
You might expect to find wild plums in farmers’ markets where it seems they could appeal to home-preserving enthusiasts. The “California fruit detective”, David Karp, whose informative article Every Imaginable Plum mentions the only commercial source he knows of:
“In the most distant corner of the state, there is a farm clinging to tradition: the only remaining commercial orchard of native Sierra plums, which grow wild in the mountains of northeastern California. A mile south of the Oregon border, flanked by the shallow, 20-mile-long Goose Lake to the west, and the Warner Mountains to the east, is a wild, lonely valley where cattle and hay are the main crops. When I arrived on a misty September morning, John Stringer, 47, showed me his orchard of 3,000 shrubby trees, loaded with small, round, cherry-red fruits, from which he makes wines and jams. “I’m at elevation 4,600 feet,” he said. “It can snow any month of the year, so only wild plums are hardy enough to grow here. Stringer popped a few fruits in his mouth as he picked a bucket to sell at his roadside store. “It’s not really an eating plum,” he said. “Unless you live here.”
Still, if not for their fruit, mature wild plum trees are magnificent in bloom. One such tree is the centerpiece of an open field in nearby Tilden Park. Before spring begins to hatch in late February this majestic tree explodes into blossoming fireworks that take our breath away. When the air warms you can catch its rare scent in the breeze. The blossoms attract pollinators to their sexy fragrance, a balance of sweet floral, slightly musky notes entwined with a primal undertone. It’s that scent of nectar that bees secret back to be transformed in the honeycomb.
The wild plums on my hill belong to the Prunus genus but I have yet to identify them. The first and most prodigious of my trees yields small yellow fruit resembling a cherry in size that is yellow with a faint blush when ripened in the sun. The other tree bears larger fruit, 1-1/2 to 2 inches in diameter with meaty flesh.
Both contain hard central pits and if you crack them to expose the kernels, they can be used like those of peach and apricot pits to infuse ice cream, custards, or bavarois. The kernel is commonly known as “bitter almond” or " noyau " in French. Caution is always advised as the bitter almonds of stone fruits contain compounds that can form, no joke, deadly hydrogen cyanide in the digestive tract. But since bitter almonds are so unpalatable and would never be eaten as one would a handful of nuts, there is no concern about serving yourself up a spoonful of poison. The high dilution of the kernel contents in an ice cream base, in custard, or marzipan leaves only a miniscule trace. As such, it may even be good for you. It’s reported in both traditional and conventional medicine that very small quantities of this exceeding deadly compound have been shown to stimulate respiration, improve digestion, and promote a sense of well-being. I’ll smash pits for that.
Because of their tart, sweet, and astringent qualities, wild plums are ideal for making preserves, chutneys, coulis, syrups, and sorbets. Their bright acidity and intense plumminess are a pleasing counterpoint to rich meats. Sauces made from any of the wild varieties are superb with shoulder-end pork chops and blade cuts as well as duck and loin lamb chops The preserves carry a depth of flavor that store-bought versions often lack. Bakers find wild plums a delightful addition to pies and tarts, where their vibrant color enhances appearance and flavor.
Most of the tartness and nearly all of the perfume of wild plums resides in the skins and since they are very thin, it’s unnecessary to sieve them out of your preserve, or sauce.
WILD PLUM PRESERVE
Beg or steal (nobody will care, but best to ask!) 3-4 pounds of wild plums. Pit miniature-sized plums with a cherry pitter. Cut the cheeks of more meaty wild plums free of the pits. Measure out half their weight in white, granulated sugar. It’s not necessary to add pectin. Wild plums have plenty of it.
Transfer the plums to a bowl and cover completely with the sugar; do not mix. Refrigerate. Allow the plums to macerate for 2 days. Why macerate?
· Maceration allows the fruit to absorb sugar and any added flavors should you decide to incorporate such as spices, herbs, or spirits. The process helps to intensify the natural flavors of the fruit, resulting in a richer and more complex preserve.
· By allowing the fruit to sit with sugar, the natural juices are drawn and become the base for the syrup in which the fruit will cook.
· Macerating helps to soften the fruit, ensuring that it retains a desirable texture once cooked. This is particularly important for fruits that may be firmer and need some tenderizing before being transformed into preserves.
· Since the fruit has already released its juices and absorbed the sugar, the actual cooking time is reduced. This can help to preserve the color and shape of the fruit, making for a more visually appealing preserve.
· Sugar acts as a preservative and keeps the fruit looking vibrant and fresh.
Transfer the macerated fruit to a heavy-bottomed non-reactive pot**. Bring to a boil. Skim away all of the foam as the preserve cooks and it rises to the surface. Raise the temperature and reduce the mixture. Stir frequently as it thickens to avoid sticking and burning. Lower the heat but maintain the boil. When the mixture reaches 220 F, turn off the heat and pack in sterilized jars. Water process for 10 minutes.