The wife and granddaughter of the contractor who built the flat came by with this armful of plums picked from their backyard.
Gorgeous, fragrant, just a day shy of perfectly ripe. I feel plum butter coming on.
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« Home & Home in a Budapest Cheese Shop. | Main | Rhythm: Chopping. »
August 29, 2008
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Those look delicious and remind me of a photo of lovely ripe plums I have from Istanbul...greener but they were delicious.
I adore your blog, btw.
Posted by: Szerelem | August 30, 2008 at 03:42 PM
Now I'm dreaming of grass (and plums) greener on the other side of the Ottoman empire. Are they quite perfumed?
Posted by: Tori | September 01, 2008 at 02:14 PM