The Italian Plums were ripe and we are leaving for Paris this afternoon.
It is my first crop of plums from our young tree, I couldn't let them go to waste. The Pflaumenmuss baked all night, now in glasses and labels affixed early this morning.
There is a certain fig tree in a vineyard, between Florence and Sienna, a perfect shelter for a picnic and the figs, the perfect dessert. Ciao
Gina
