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The Vineyard Years
A Memoir with Recipes
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The best part of our newly acquired orchards was that tree-ripened fruit introduced me to delicious new tastes. Before we owned the orchards, for example, I had only eaten canned Royal Anne cherries, which my mother would serve as a special dessert. How much better they were fresh and ripe off the tree. The whole family would go down after dinner and wander from tree to tree, plucking the biggest ones and popping them into our mouths for dessert. “Let’s go down and graze in the cherry orchard,” one of us would suggest and we’d all troop down the hill. I had also never eaten a tree-ripened peach. I couldn’t believe how much more flavorful it was than any I had bought in a store.
I felt it my duty not to let anything from our orchards go to waste. We were overloaded with fruit, even though I canned, froze, pickled, and made jam, preserves, and brandy. It became too much of a good thing. After about two years I admitted defeat. Worn out, it was a relief to finally accept that I simply could not use, or give away, all the fruit, and that I would have to let some drop to the ground.
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