A couple weeks back my wife bought some lovely looking plums at the farmer's market, they looked so meautiful in their little wooden panier. Sadly, they didn't taste nearly as good as they looked. Actually, to be fair, they tasted just fine, it was their texture that was all kinda funky.
Now, I am not a big fan of plums, love prunes, but fresh plums….not so much.
Not sure why, but plums (with the exception of the Mirabelle's that I fell in love with in France) have never done much for me. That said, if we've got some nice fresh ones in the fridge I'll be a good little soldier and eat them.
Unless, of course, they have a mealy-nasty texture that makes me want to gag. If that's the case I'm not touching the buggers. Not surprisingly, everyone else in the family felt the same way about the poor little fellas, and they sat forlornly in their cute woven basket for about a week before I finally decided that I had to make a project out of them or throw them away.
