Tag Archives: bletting

The Bletting has Begun

Remember the medlars?  A few days ago they looked like this: strange, mostly firm, ugly fruit resembling a cross between an apple and an enormous rosehip.

Medlar, medlar

Medlar, medlar

I wrapped the fruit in brown paper and left it in the cool garage to blett (decompose, rot). Yesterday, I discovered that two of the medlars were  thoroughly bletted and another two were starting to blett. Today, I attempted to photograph the bletting process but with limited success.Time passes If you look closely and carefully, you may be able to see that the fruit on the left is bletted (looking shriveled and dark in colour), and so is the second fruit from the left. The third medlar is starting to blett (on its far surface) and the last medlar (that is the one to the right of the photo) is still unbletted.

Now, isn’t that a lot of blither blather about bletting and bletted and not bletted and unbletting?

For this post, which is as much about  the passage of time as decomposing medlars, I  unwrapped my  grandmother’s aged clock. Since the first big earthquake in 2010, which it miraculously survived, the clock has been tucked away amongst protective clothing in my dresser drawer. Today, I turned the key,  and set the clock  to tick- tick, tick- tick, tick- tick, happily, happily, for the first time in over 2 years. I am enjoying its company again, but I will probably put it away, come evening time.  It is nearly a hundred years old and needs rest and care as much as anyone else of that vintage. It is too fragile now to be left exposed to the rigours of daily life on a table top.

© silkannthreades

Medlar, medlar, how does your bletting go?

Until a few days ago, this was as close as I had ever been to a medlar, outside of literature and history;

then, as I mentioned in my previous post, my friend brought me some medlars which she had bought on Mother’s Day, at a country store, in a small farming community about 30 minutes south of our city.  Medlars are a fruit  with an ancient history in Europe but are not widely grown, or known, in my part of the world. I was delighted to see them in the flesh for the first time. They look rather different from the stylised ones on my wallpaper.

To me, the medlars look like a cross between a small russet coloured apple and a gigantic rosehip. The fruit I have is  hard and, in this state, it is inedible. Medlars must be left to blett before they can be eaten or cooked. Blett is a polite way to say decompose which is a polite way to say rot. Blett comes from the French world blettir which means to become over-ripe, or so the dictionary tells me.

So, here is my basket of medlars, beginning their bletting journey; hopefully!

I don’t know how long it will take.   I am keeping them covered in a paper bag and stored in the coolest part of my house, which is the garage. Supposedly, this will encourage their bletting. And when they have bletted, or if they blett, I will decide what to do next.  Maybe medlar jelly, or cheese, or pie, or maybe skinned and straight into my mouth….or the compost! Who knows if I will like rotten fruit 🙂

© silkannthreades