Not knowing when "Nefle de October" medlars are supposed to be ready to pick (note that I did not use the word "ripen"), I've been checking on them every few days since we started having frosts to see if they were beginning to soften. When I reached down inside the chickenwire cage this morning to remove some weeds for a photo, four of the six fell off the tree of their own accord. I took that as a sign. I picked the remaining two, arranged them on some dogwood leaves for your viewing pleasure, and brought them inside to blet. 'Sa good word, "blet." It's a more romantic term than "rot," which is exactly what medlars are supposed to do to become edible. Now before you go "Ewwwwwww!" I want you to think about those cheeses you like. Every one of them is milk at some stage of rotting, so don't tell me you won't eat rotten food. Medlars are hard as little rocks until the process begins. Then the flesh softens until it becomes the texture of canned pumpkin. At that point, your medlars are ready to eat (yes, straight), to turn into jam/jelly or (my favourite), to use as a glaze on ham. They have a taste similar to persimmon pudding: honeyed, aromatic, a little citrusy. Okay, six isn't enough to make even one half-pint of jelly, but I might be able to turn these into ham glaze in time for Christmas. Blet on!
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