AUTUMN FRUITS OF GUAJAR ALTO

The long, hot summers and the cool winter nights of Guájar Alto provide perfect conditions for olive production and for centuries, since the time of Moorish occupation, it has been a major crop in this area. Whereas olives destined for the mills are harvested in late December, those intended for the table may be picked now. However, If they are still hard and green, then they are not ready; if they have turned a pale, yellowish colour and feel slightly soft, then that’s fine. During the ripening process olives change colour from pale green through to violet and finally black and they may be collected for curing during any of these stages. I use only the most perfect fruits for preserving and carefully select the best from each tree. If you bite into a freshly-picked olive, the astringency shrivels the mouth, hence the need for curing.
Everyone here seems to have a favourite method of preparing olives for preservation but the one which I find most reliable is as follows: firstly, with a small, sharp knife make a slit in each olive; it’s important to do this in order to draw out the bitterness. Secondly, into an adequately sized container pour in enough spring water ( not tap water ) to cover the olives and throw in a good handful of coarse salt. Cover with a cloth and leave for four days, stirring occasionally. After four days, drain the olives and put them into fresh saline solution, again using only spring water. This process needs to be repeated at least four times, at the end of which the olives should be ready to be put into jars.
I sterilize the jars and their lids in a moderate oven for at least five minutes. Next, I fill them with the rinsed olives, plus a few cloves of peeled garlic. I then add to each either a sprig of rosemary, thyme, a couple of bay leaves or some wild fennel. I also use sliced oranges or lemons, chilli flakes or soft, green, pickled peppercorns which are so hard to come by in the U.K. but are often sold in supermarkets here. Finally, I pour olive oil over the olives, filling the jars to their brims, and screw the lids on. In this way they will keep for months. Last year, I preserved some olives in saline solution and the rest in oil but the former did not keep as well as the latter. I’ve sampled other people’s home-cured olives conserved in saline and thought they were rather soggy; they should be firm when you bite into them. As a preserving medium I find that olive oil, as with my sun-dried tomatoes, locks in and enhances the flavour, as well as enabling the fruit to maintain its firmness.
Pomegranates have also been grown for centuries in Guájar Alto but, nowadays, no-one bothers to pick them and it is such a pity to see them lying on the ground, rotting. Eating a pomegranate can be quite hard work so a good alternative is to juice the fruit, strain it and pour it into ice-trays. Similarly, frozen grapefruit cubes are absolutely delicious when added to a gin-and-tonic. In Spain, blackberry or mulberry cordials are very popular and, added to sparkling white wine, make a delicately coloured, exquisitely flavoured, drink.
We have a great many oaks ( of the evergreen variety ) in this area and I have noticed that it has been a very good year for acorns. In fact, they are rather a nuisance because I have to keep sweeping them from the terrace in order to avoid slipping on them. The wild boar love them, of course, and every night can be heard snuffling and snorting about wherever there are oaks. Acorns are also an important food source for jays and whereas in England you hardly ever see them because they are such shy birds, in Guájar Alto there are so many of them that we see them all the time. We have a big oak tree outside the kitchen and often, when I’m standing at the sink, I see jays stripping the acorns from the twigs. They are strikingly handsome birds with rose-tinted breasts and wing feathers striped with the loveliest shade of blue but their cries are loud, raucous and startling.
Since it’s been such a good year for acorns, I think there might also be a good crop of chestnuts this year. Last autumn, we were given so many that my fingers were sore from the painstaking task of skinning them. I’d had visions of luscious, home-made marrons glacés but these were thwarted when I consulted my Larousse Gastronomique and read that the process involved in the making of them was long and intricate and seldom undertaken in the home. We had to make do instead with endless purées and stuffings.
Amongst the myrtle, box and other shrubs typical of the Mediterranean, there are many juniper bushes growing on the mountainsides here and this year they’ve produced a great many berries. As well as being used for the distillation of gin, their astringent, aromatic flavour makes them ideal for adding to marinades or savoury dishes.
In the mountain villages of Granada it used to be the custom to preserve surplus produce using vinegar, salt or oil but, unfortunately, very few of the youg women these days seem interested in carrying on the habits of their mothers. I think it’s a great pity.