Nutting (and quincing)

It was a very autumnal weekend - though unfortunately I couldn't remember any appropriate folk songs while out nutting. We've had two walnut trees on the farm for as long as I can remember, never growing much taller, just wider. Which is actually a good thing when it comes to harvesting the nuts as they're easy to climb up into, find some promising-looking branches, and then jump up and down on them, listening to the thudding of the nuts as they fall down. I managed to get about four kilos of nuts in twenty minutes - the squirrels are obviously really lazy at Claywell.



This is them after being hulled and washed - see the wonderful pages at The California Backyard Orchard. Now, they dry - and wait for their fate at Christmas, or maybe to be added to brownies or fruitcake later in the year.

Also picked: quinces. Lots of quinces. First for Khoresht-e-Beh, an Iranian stew made with lamb and quinces (I made enough for twelve, and four ate it all), and then for freezing quinces - and stewing them so slowly had the benefit of filling the house with the smell for at least two hours. Going out to pick them was also a lovely experience, reaching into the tree to twist them gently off their branches, the bucket slowly filling up to the brim.



A very pleasant experience - and I hope to get some more to store away when I go back to Claywell next, assuming the squirrels have left the walnuts alone. I don't think anything eats quinces apart from humans!