Plummy

Another eventful weekend that I'm too tired to summarise. It was predicted to be wet, and we were both looking forward to some powerful thunderstorms as an excuse to stay inside and watch our NetFlix (a gay German film and GoT). But, alas, it was clear and sunny every day. Saturday was a wash due to my gout and the associated annoyances (although I did get a little bit of planting done), but the next day I was feeling cautiously optimistic enough that I joined the Bear crowd at the beach (although I avoided spending to much time in the cold water). I would've liked to have lingered longer, but we already had plans to meet Turtle and Turtlewife for ramen in the burbs. After that, I was too pumped to relax, so I went out to the bars. It didn't quite go as planned, but I got to be there for a good friend, which was frankly superior to most of the plausible alternatives.

That left today, much of which I spent sleeping. monshu had sent me by the store on my way back from the shore and I noticed how lovely and ripe the damson plums were. So this morning he asked me if I still intended to make something with them, so I was forced to make good on my idle plans of baking Zwetschgenkuchen. Mimi Sheraton doesn't usually lead me wrong, and I think if I'd baked this a little longer, she wouldn't have. As it was, the filling was a bit runny and the crust underbaked.



Still, it was tasty enough that I went back for seconds twice. The plums are still there at Devon Market, and I've planted the idea in the Old Man's head of a clafoutis. Hopefully it's sprouted and will bear fruit later in the week.