The Fragility of Self-Reliance

For me self-sufficiency is a myth, as to play a full role in modern life - wear decent clothes, enjoy the benefits of any electronic device, use the most effective medicines etc - we rely on wider society. What many people mean by self-sufficiency is growing most of their own food, better expressed as self-reliance. We are happy to grow a small percentage of our own food: we have hens for eggs, and an allotment that provides a large proportion of our vegetables from say June to mid-October, plus beds in the garden for herbs and additional veg, especially salads. But we are far from self-reliant and certainly not self-sufficient.

The dangers of such a path have been emphasized this year by what has happened to our fruit harvest. The combination of a dry spring and horribly wet summer and early autumn, with frequent damaging winds, has left us with barely a fruit on our two cooking apple trees, nothing on the eater, nothing on the cherry, nothing on the pear. The cobnut bushes produced a less than exciting 100g of shelled fruit, made into pesto and long gone already. If we had chosen a true peasant existence we would be done for.

Pears like Christmas

We have two pear trees on the allotment, and our friends with the one next door have another with a crop so huge it has broken at least one large branch off already. Pears don't ripen on the tree, and picking them is a matter of judgement, too early as with a recent load and they remain rock hard before collapsing unpleasantly.

So yesterday I tried poaching about six or seven peeled and cut into quarters, core removed. My spirit reviews have left us with overflowing cupboards, so the syrup in which they were poached contained rum and limoncello, lots of sugar, and some cinnamon and nutmeg. It took half and hour on a very low simmer, the pace upped at the end to reduce the liquid, but the result was sublime, a taste of Christmas a whole season too early. They reminded us of some figs we used to buy from a deli in Ramsbottom (laugh now effete southerners, Rammy is a foodie oasis believe it or not). The jar sloshed with spiced syrup, served with cream and a glass of amontillado they were an annual treat until the deli changed hands and they were no longer stocked.

Given the calorific content not a pudding to be eaten daily, but we will have them again soon.