The tree is actually a fruit salad tree. The previous owner took an apricot tree and grafted a scion of nectarine and another of Italian plum. The plum part is a non-starter, the nectarine branch produces about five or six diminutive offerings each year, but the apricot host really puts on a show to make up for the others.
It blossoms with vigor and beauty and seems to always set well. I’ve always thought apricots were cyclical in production; producing big crops followed by lesser numbers in the next year. But this one over the three years we’ve been enjoying its company has always been a show-off. The one thing: this year the apricots are small. They taste great but they are no bigger than about the size of very big olive. The year before, some of them looked like average sized oranges.
I love apricots. I eat them fresh, dried and preserved in many ways. My partner, not so much. She’ll use the chutney we make on meat dishes and Indian food but she’s not about to eat them raw or even preserved, with a big bowl of vanilla ice cream (like me). There’s a ton of easy-to-find recipes on the internet so I won’t bother with one here. Except to say, figure out what your personal syrup percentage is and then go just a little richer. Sugar gets a bad rap from many folks these days, but under the best conditions it works well to help preserve the fruit and truly elevates the flavour components.
This year I’m experimenting with sun-drying a few and I really like the results so far. Because I’m doing them small scale on the patio and vacuum sealing them afterward, I don’t have to worry about spoilage too much and will minimize the sulphur dioxide used in commercial production. I don’t have anything against SO2 as an anti-oxidant but the amounts they use really disrupts the taste attributes. So far there’s been very few bugs or other intruders.
Since we still are working on the 2022 crop that we put into jars, we are going to limit our production to proven winners and we’re going to gift some of our more successful efforts. Plus we’re extending an invitation for friends and neighbours to come by and help themselves. Now that I think of it, an extra jar of apricot jam wouldn’t be a bad idea. On a cold December morning, it hits right, slathered on a warm slab of toast, looking out the window at the bare tree in the yard and recalling the languid days of July.