On Saturday I was given a kilogramme and a half of the juiciest plums, except they weren't juicy at all - they had just been dug out of a neighbour's freezer and they were little arctic blockettes of solid purple ice! I was delighted and despite the very real threat of frost bitten fingers - I made plum jam.
The flesh was so cold as I began to whittle out the pits then it started to thaw, it became soft and the promised juice filled the bowl while kitchen filled with the scent of summer.
The juice transformed into the most deliciously scented syrupy plum magma as it bubbled and boiled, a thick volcanic glorious gloop.
I filled seven jars of liquid purple gold and a small bowl took up the excess - we would eat this first. Then as a thank you, once the jars had cooled down and the lids had clicked tight, I took a large jar to the neighbour who'd given us the plums.
Hot buttered toast slathered in home made plum jam made my day - bliss.
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