By June, the fruit are plump and bursting with juice — so much so that they sometimes start to extrude a gum-like jelly that hardens into resinous balls that look tempting to suck on but turn out to be be mouth-puckeringly sour.
The first windfalls are still too green, so they get popped into some liquor — usually shochu but it could be brandy, or even mirin — and made into umeshu. For umeboshi, we have to wait until the jade green starts to develop a yellowish hue.
By this time we have strung nets under the branches to catch any further escapees. Each of those fruit are precious!
Ideally they should be slightly riper than this before they're harvested. But there's no holding back the natural rhythms: once they start to drop into the nets, we know it's time to bring them in.
So, last weekend (June 8) it was out with the ladder and up into the branches to search out those ume — they tend to be very well camouflaged against the dappled foliage...
It was a modest haul this year. The yield from our tree fluctuates, with lean years alternating with more generous harvests. At its peak, our tree was giving us more than 5 kilos. This year it's less than half that much.
Freshly picked like this they have such a wonderful aroma, hinting of the tartness inside but also with a subtle apricot sweetness.
And their skins are so smooth to the touch, with just the faintest gentlest fuzz: as soft as the skin of a child.
[next step: into the pickling crock, continues here…]
