Le Temps Doux

When autumn darkness falls, 

what we will remember are the small acts of kindness: 

a cake, a hug, an invitation to talk, 

and every single rose.
Jens Stoltenberg.

 

After a memorably grim Summmer, Autumn is spectacular this year and it always amazes me how it prompts a flurry of activity. Stacking the logs, filling the freezer(s), stocking up on candles, unearthing the UGGS and of course jam making.

My tame bramble was late to ripen, but the fat juicy berries were well worth the wait.

My grapes didn't quite make it to full ripeness, they were stolen by a pair of blackbirds who spent hours tugging them off the vine under the vigilant eye of Coco the cat!

Coco tries to look hard but I know better!

I've made the usual jams for next year, apricot and myrtille being firm favourites. But a friend surprised me this week with a big basket of vine peaches.

They get their name from being planted among the grapevines, as these tiny trees don't take up much space. The fruits are small and don't ripen until October. But they are well worth the wait, they provide a treat for all the senses.
The skins are like thick velvet (you have to skin them to make jam) and the flesh is a vibrant crimson. The smell is heady, fruity with an almost flowery perfume.

The flavour is vivid, rich, complex and dazzling. Made into jam it becomes more intense. I think I have just discovered a new favourite jam.