To the right you can see what I think of as “The Scrumping Tree”. On our holiday in the south of England (about a month ago), I had planned to cook pork chops in cider for the first night. However, although I had all the other ingredients I needed I hadn’t been able to find any cooking apples when I went shopping and so I was keeping my eyes open for a local farm shop where I might be able to buy some.
As we drove through the hamlet of Langrish, trying to figure out where to turn off to get to our apartment at Drayton Farm, I spotted this apple tree laden with fruit. We pulled over and I picked a few apples – enough for what turned out to be a very tasty main dish and also rustic apple turnovers for pudding.
Technically, it was probably foraging rather than scrumping. The tree seemed to be on public ground and, from the amount of fruit on the ground, was not being harvested by any owner. However, scrumping is a good, solid word and not one I’ve had much opportunity to use while I’ve been a city dweller, so “The Scrumping Tree” it is.
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