Showing posts with label perry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label perry. Show all posts

Sunday, 20 October 2013

Laden



My mother gave her son-in-law a Cox's Orange Pippin sapling. She died in 1993, so it is now well established - and this year well loaded.

Besides apples, Bill has several extremely productive pear trees in his orchard: he has rigged up an impressive scratter in his garage, worthy of Heath Robinson himself: this year's resultant juice is well on its way to becoming next year's perry. Bill describes his perry-making activities in this fine piece he has written for his parish magazine; and you can email him via this link if you would like to enquire about buying his perry. (It's delicious!)

Tuesday, 7 August 2012

Château Bill


My Worcestershire brother-in-law planted a vineyard a little while ago, and with all this Summer's rain the grapes are currently looking good. We look forward to a wine tasting in due course. Meanwhile, in recent years he has been making a mean perry, using pears from some of his mature orchard, and - following today's visit - we returned home with a case of 12 bottles. It's delicious!

Thursday, 17 November 2011

GOGG


There was a seed exchange at the latest Gloucestershire Organic Gardening Group's meeting at Whiteway Colony Hall: I forgot to take the ones I'd set aside, but nevertheless came back with full pockets.

Local orchardist, Martin Hayes was the speaker, though it was not so much a lecture, more a tasting - of a wide variety of apple juices, not to mention cider and perry - with aphorisms.

Martin's enthusiasm, born of 38 years' experience, is palpable. He describes vividly his falling out with an early boss (still alive "because well-pickled by spray"), and meeting two long-term partners in an orchard, "by one of whom I had a lovely daughter". "Don't spray," he urged us, "or you'll never stop. If there's a maggot in there, it proves it's a nice apple. There's always juicing." And "Yes, I do hug trees, but only to measure their age. After all, perry pears flourish for 300 years." Why does Gloucestershire have so many perry orchards - or used to? "Because God went to the top of May Hill, took a bite of a perry pear, and spat it out."