When one has backyard fruit trees, there's a moment of use-it-or-lose-it. Since we have a laughably small freezer, and since we had already made plenty of jam, it was clear that we would have to make a batch of plum wine.
Plums -- like grapes -- have a naturally-occurring yeast on their skins. This yeast is perfect for wine-making. Also, it's just so beautiful. Next time you're in a museum, go look at the still life paintings, and really take a moment to marvel over how beautifully the grapes and plums are painted.
What's not so aesthetically thrilling is the process of home wine-making. This is another in my series of uninteresting circular cooking photos. In this case, you're looking at week-old smooshed plums that have just had additional yeast sprinkled over them. Thrilling. I know.
I picked the last of our backyard plums, which weighed exactly ten pounds. We pretty much doubled this recipe (although we didn't wash off the wild yeast on our plums). I dumped the plums and the water into a sterilized bucket and then just smooshed them with my hands. We sloshed the bucket around every day for a week. At the end of the week, we added some champagne yeast. A week after that, we transferred the liquid out of the plastic bucket and into a glass carboy.
The wine is an uncanny pink color, and tastes fruity, if a bit raw. We're planning on serving it on the Fourth of July. In the past, we've made plum wine and let it ages for years. Given the tininess of our house, and complete inability to regulate our home's temperature, it seems to make a lot of sense to make wine that we'll drink sooner rather than later.
And speaking of which, if you're among our local readers, you're invited over for the Fourth of July. It's our usual low-key backyard picnic, with professional-grade illegal fireworks provided by my neighbors. This year promises to be out-of-control, with regards to fireworks. The neighbors have been shooting them off since the beginning of June. Let me know if you're stopping by, please!
A Year Ago
I am so busy with work that I write nothing for two months
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