Pondering what to do with over 60 pounds of cherries isn’t an everyday conundrum. Sadly, it’s a question I will never need to address from my very urban flat, in very urban East London, with no garden or cherry tree in sight. It was, however, a topic for discussion at dinner over the weekend.
The boy and I were supping with friends, who are lucky enough to have a bountiful cherry tree in their front garden; I eagerly consumed a generous portion after pudding (a delightful apricot and almond tart), and was delighted to leave with a further serving for us to enjoy at home.
Cherries are probably my favourite summer fruit. On occasion, I’ve successfully made myself slightly sick, greedily eating more than a couple of punnets’ worth. Keen to make the orchard gift last as long as possible, I considered soaking some in brandy, or even freezing half; and then I opened the paper, flicked through the magazine and Nigel Slater’s clafoutis was there, begging to be made. So far so perfect.