by Nan Chase
Frozen in sections
Where it grows best
In zones with moderate winter temperatures, some sub-freezing weather but no late freezes
In light or sandy soil that drains quickly
On sloping ground to shed frost
With specific local characteristics (see Resources section for Agricultural Extension information)
How to grow it
With early spring planting
With irrigation in dry weather
With weed-free soil around the trunk
For quick shade in yards of any size, within three years
Near lawn furniture for an inviting garden “room”
Special care for peaches
To produce the best fruit, peach trees require substantial pruning—as much as thirty percent of the wood—each year after the tree is established. When planting new trees, prune to three short limbs to produce an “open center” or vase shape. As the tree matures, continue to remove crossing limbs, suckers, and much growth on main limbs. Pruning keeps the tree structure short and open and allows good air circulation, crucial to minimizing disease and to encouraging flower buds at a convenient height. See http://wilkes.ces.ncsu.edu/files/library/97/HowtoPrunePeachTrees-4.pdf.
Peaches are susceptible to various pests and diseases. For help choosing organic solutions, see Resources section, and stick to any recommended spraying schedule. Disease-resistant varieties are under development.
Fruit thinning may be necessary for full-size fruit and to prevent limbs breaking. To thin fruit, simply pinch off a proportion of flowers or tiny developing fruit, or shake tree vigorously when fruit is young. Remaining fruit should be 6–8 inches apart, or not more than 500 peaches when tree is grown.
Pear
First grow a pear tree.
When I imagine my favorite pear recipe—a weeks-long saga that involves pickling pears in spiced syrup and using them for an olive oil–based torte—that’s how I begin.
First, grow a pear tree. It’s the ultimate test of patience, for that part alone can take years. That pear trees bear fruit at all is something of a miracle, as pollination may take place over the course of just a few hours each year and several variables must align precisely to produce viable fruit.
Fortunately, I started my twenty-year love affair with fresh pears by finding two mature pear trees on a vacant lot near my children’s elementary school.
The kids and I looked at those pears for years, wondering if we should pick some. Then one evening we packed up a ladder and some paper grocery bags and did it. We waded through high grass and sticker bushes for our reward: hundreds of fat green pears, too hard to eat right away but excellent for ripening at home and for those spiced pickles. The kids liked being encouraged to climb trees higher and higher, to reach for the choicest ones.
Human beings have been eating pears since the Stone Age. Pears figured in the cuisine—and the drinking life—of ancient Greece and Rome, and they became part of the nutritional culture of Western Europe before crossing the Atlantic. In Old World folklore, planting a pear tree was a living good-luck charm, especially to welcome the birth of a daughter.
Pickled, baked, poached, thinly sliced with cheese or in a salad, crushed and made into cider or wine—pears have the feel of antiquity. In long-ago France, particularly, pear culture took hold in the favorable soil and climate, and many pear varieties have lovely French names: Beurre d’Amanlis, Doyenne du Comice, Jargonelle, Bellissime d’Hiver, Conseiller de la Cour, and others.
The grainy texture and nectar-like juice of pears are unmistakable; relatively high levels of vitamin C and potassium and very high fiber content make them a valuable source of nourishment. Dried in slices, pears keep well through the year.
In the edible landscape, pears usher in spring with their delicate white blossoms, which attract insects and make the air come alive for the frenzied pollination period. And because the pear tree has such supple wood, it has long been used for training onto walls in the espalier form; the practice enables gardeners to give the tree extra warmth and shelter in cold climates.
Pears are fussy about cold and fertilizer and mustn’t have too much of either. Too-rich soil encourages excess vegetation rather than fruiting, but soil must be deeply structured for the long roots.
When planting pear trees in the edible landscape, keep in mind that each variety is self-sterile; there must be at least two varieties near each other for pollination. And not just any two: different pears can be early, midseason, or late bearing, so it’s best to choose pairs that are compatible. Newer dwarf stocks are a boon to the home gardener, as the trees are easier to maintain and require less space.
Pears are highly unusual in needing to be picked before they are ripe. That’s because they ripen from the inside out, and by the time the outer layer is ready, the inside has turned to mush. To test for readiness, hold each ripening pear in your cupped palm and turn the hand upward. If the stem separates easily from the tree, it’s time.
Photo by Debby Morse from madeater.blogspot.com.
Pear Chutney
3 pounds pears, peeled and chopped
2-1/2 cups vinegar
2 cups brown sugar
1-1/2 teaspoons grated ginger
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1-1/2 teaspoons salt
1 medium green bell pepper, finely chopped
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup golden raisins
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Place the pears in the vinegar in a nonreactive metal saucepan. Stir in the sugar and spices, and bring to a boil. Add all other ingredients and simmer until thick, about 1 hour.
Pack into 3 sterilized pint canning jars with new, scalded bands and new lids. Leave 1/2 inch head space. Quickly invert the jars, leaving them upturned for five minutes. When turned right side up, they should seal.
Pears grow in espalier form near the kitchen garden of Oatlands Historic House and Gardens in Leesburg, Virginia. Photo by Carla Johnston for Oatlands Historic House and Gardens.
Landscape highlights
Spring blossoms
Espaliered for year-round interest on wall
Edible highlights
Fruit ripened off the tree
Pressed for fermentation
Canned whole in spiced syrup
Poached or baked as dessert
Dehydrated for winter snacking
Where it grows best
In full or partial sun, in a cool or cold climate
In soil that’s not too rich, to discourage excess leaf growth at the expense of fruit
In generally dry garden conditions to discourage blight, but with occasional watering
On dwarf rootstock for ease of care and harvest
How to grow it
With other pear varieties for cross-pollination
Without much pruning
With soil weeded around trees to discourage rodents
With excess fruit thinned to prevent limbs breaking
Against a brick wall, pruned and trained on wires for symmetrical shape, old-world style
In moderate climates in pairs scattered in a large yard
Cross-pollination tips
Pears are self-sterile, that is, they cannot become fertilized and bear fruit without another variety nearby, preferably one that blooms and bears fruit around the same time in the season.
The reliable Bartlett pear, the Rousselet of Stuttgart, and Clapp’s Favorite all ripen in late August. Seckel pear, Beurre D’Anjou, Orcas, and Bosc all ripen in September. Seckel and Bartlett are a non-fertilizing European pear combination. Asian pears also cross-pollinate; try Hosui with Chojuro and Shinseiki.
See Resources section for Agricultural Extension information about best local characteristics.
Plum
My memories of the plums in my family’s backyard are fifty years old but bright as sunshine. It was full summe
r in Fresno, California, and a band of half-grown boys—they looked so menacing but were probably twelve—streamed into the yard with baseball bats and headed right to a plum tree. I watched from the safety of the house, a scared five- or six-year-old.
We had two plum trees, one of them with immense dark-purple fruits colored red on the inside: juicy and delicious. The other tree was smaller, with small, light-colored plums; they weren’t as sweet, and as far as we kids were concerned, that tree was only good for climbing.
Those big boys grabbed handfuls of the overripe fruit that had fallen to the ground, and they hit the lower branches with their bats for more. They tossed a few of the plums into the air and hit them like baseballs. Splat! The skins burst and pulp and juice went flying. The boys laughed hard, grabbed their plum booty, and fled to the middle of our otherwise quiet street to continue their game of plum baseball. The pavement was a mess afterward.
Ah, how sweet those days of careless excess. If I had those two plum trees today, of course, I’m sure I would be baking, cooking, drying, and canning the fruit to capture some of that summer-flavored goodness for the rest of the year. The encouraging news is there’s no reason, with time, that I can’t have homegrown plums again. There are already two young trees started in my edible landscape in western North Carolina.
Plums have been called the “most various” kind of fruit tree in America. With two main types of plum—European and Japanese—and many hybrids of each, there’s a plum tree for every climate and soil type (so contact your local Agricultural Extension office). A third strain consists of the American native plum species; according to some classification systems, the Damson is a separate plum type. Some of the many fruiting plum varieties have purple-tinged leaves, and there’s a non-fruiting ornamental “purple-leaf” variety with striking dark leaves.
The European plums, which include the tart Damsons as well as high-sugar prune plums for drying, are popular for eating fresh, cooking, or canning; Japanese plums are known for eating fresh. American natives produce edible fruit that can be made into preserves, and with their lower, shrubby habit, they can add needed screening in the landscape.
In general, plum trees like dry heat. They require some pruning, of course, and if they have proper pollination (in some cases cross-pollination) and fertilizer, they can bear hundreds of pounds of fruit a year over a long harvest. Their beautiful pale pink or white blossoms evenly spaced along twisting branches are a symbol of springtime perfection.
Meaty and nutritious, plums lend themselves to all kinds of culinary uses: baked into breads and cakes, roasted with meats, and made into jams, chutneys, wines, cordials, and dried fruit leathers. Prunes are simply dried plums and have a wide range of uses on their own.
Photo courtesy of the California Tree Fruit Agreement.
Hiding in the shade, plums ripen gradually to their full sugary goodness in the edible landscape. Photo courtesy of the California Tree Fruit Agreement.
Rose Water Plum Compote
5 pounds plums
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
1 pound sugar (fine-grain organic cane sugar)
3 tablespoons rose water
Have a big bowl ready. Pit and chop the plums into small 1/2-inch pieces. As you chop, place the chopped plums in the bowl and toss with a drizzle of the lemon juice every once in a while. When all the plums have been chopped, gently toss them with any remaining lemon juice and the sugar. Stir in the rose water. If possible, let the mixture sit for twenty minutes or so.
In a large, wide, thick-bottomed pot, bring the plum mixture to a boil over medium heat. Stir regularly, scraping the bottom of the pot to make sure the fruit doesn’t burn. Adjust the heat if needed and cook at a lazy boil for about 20 to 25 minutes, skimming off any foam that develops. Be mindful of the texture of the fruit; you don’t want to overcook (or over-stir) the fruit to the point that it breaks down and goes to mush.
Remove from heat and spoon the compote into individual jars. Refrigerate until ready to use. It will keep for about a week like this. Makes about eight half-pint jars.
Recipe courtesy of Heidi Swanson / 101cookbooks.com.
Crops can be huge as plum trees come into their bearing years. That’s why a good recipe for preserves is worth keeping close at hand. Photo courtesy of Heidi Swanson, www.101cookbooks.com.
Landscape highlights
Spring blossoms
Summer harvest
Edible highlights
Fresh fruit from the tree
Dehydrated as prunes
Canned as jam or compote
Where it grows best
In zones with warm or hot summers but cold winters (to -30 degrees F, Zone 4, depending on variety)
In full or half-day sun
In well-drained soil, not too rich
Spaced at least twenty feet apart
How to grow it
With only light pruning to allow light and air into framework
With planting in fall and pruning in spring
With fruit thinning to prevent overbearing and damage to trees
With other varieties for cross-pollination
Not best as centerpiece of garden, but mixed into border areas for spring color
Quince
On a continuum of the pome fruits—apple, pear, and quince—quince is considered the hardest because it has the highest concentration of “stone cells,” which give quinces their especially granular, almost gritty, skin and tough fruit. Quinces may also be the most beautiful of the pome fruits, with twisting branches, a compact shape that needs little care, and supremely attractive creamy pink blossoms in early spring.
“A quince tree is beautiful in flower, leaf, and fruit, and is an ornament on any lawn,” wrote one orchardsman. “Every owner of a fruit garden should have two or three quinces.”
Some biblical scholars contend that the apple in the Garden of Eden was really a quince. Indeed the quince was familiar throughout Greek mythology and made an appearance in Roman cookbooks—stewed with honey—and in cosmetics (hair dye) and cough medicines of the day.
The quince brings four seasons of enjoyment to the edible landscape and some interesting possibilities in the kitchen.
Spring flowers begin the cycle, followed by lush foliage in summer, slowly ripening fruit in fall and through the first frosts, and, finally, winter interest as snow settles onto the tangled limbs.
Topping out at about twenty-four feet, the self-fertile quince can also be pruned to good effect. Some varieties, including the lovely contorted quince, grow considerably lower.
Horticulturalists indicate that the quince grows in exactly the same places the apple grows and so doesn’t do well in the very hottest regions of the South and West. Quinces have the same need as apples for good air circulation around and through the branches, and for adequate drainage.
That has certainly been the case in my own yard. In years when a late frost knocks out the apple blossoms, my small quince bush at the edge of the yard is hard-hit too. But when the apples bud out and set fruit, so does the quince—and that’s magical. The rosy-green young fruits look like gourds as they ripen over the long growing season and take on their yellow burnish.
Because of complications in plant nomenclature, be sure to investigate quinces of the genus Cydonia and flowering quinces of the genus Chaenomeles, both of which bear fruit.
Though the quince fruit is tough, it has a rich fragrance and strong, distinctive flavor as compensation. There are many varieties of quince, with fruit of varying degrees of sweetness; few of them can be eaten out of hand but rather are used for cooking: juice, jelly, marmalade, sauces, baked goods, and more.
Some cooks insist on a few slices of quince in apple pies and bits of quince in applesauce. One tantalizing recipe for quince sauce contains cloves, port, honey, white wine, grape juice, and lemon juice, but no added sugar; another calls for pheasant “roasted with quinces and ginger wine.”
Consider quince wine, quince leather, candie
d or crystallized quince, and a loaf-shaped quince paste, called “membrillo” in some parts, which is a favorite dish in Europe, Latin America, and the Middle East, especially when served with white cheese. It was membrillo that I loved to eat in Bogotá, Colombia, during a college semester there. Membrillo melts in the mouth, sweet and grainy.
Quince blossoms daub the spring landscape with creamy pink blooms. The fruit is tough but is flavorful in preserves and sauces when cooked. Photo by Nan K. Chase.
Membrillo (Quince Paste)
5 pounds quinces, skin left on, quartered and cored
2-1/4 cups water
Juice of 1 lemon
Sugar
1 cinnamon stick
Baking paper, not waxed paper, and sufficient butter or other shortening to coat
Bring quinces, water, and lemon juice to a boil, and then reduce heat. Simmer with the lid on for 45 minutes. Use a hand blender to puree the fruit and water.
Measure the puree and add to a clean pan along with an equal weight of sugar and the cinnamon stick. Gently heat the paste over a low heat, stirring frequently.
After 30 to 45 minutes the paste should be thickening. Keep a closer eye on the paste at this point, stirring continually.