I like my daily prune.
I took a jar of cooked prunes to Corfu.
Seems eccentric–my mother must have had a hand in establishing the habit.
“Keeps you regular, Robin!”
There’s a funny side to prunes–mention of them can make people smile.
(Anything to do with body functions tends to bring a smile to English faces.)
The word itself has a comic sound– PROONE and it’s wrinkled appearance is not beautiful.
BUT they are delicious when soaked first and then gently stewed and allowed to cool.
The prunes here are from Agen–a couple of hours to the north west of us and they are extra as the French say of something special.
Some people eat them dried.
I prefer them after they’ve been through the Method–soft and melting in the mouth–as an essential part of breakfast.
The Method (for a pound of prunes):
- Empty the prunes into a saucepan.
- Cover them with boiling water.
- Let them stand for a half hour.
- Gently bring them up to the boil.
- Cover them and let them simmer for another half hour–covered.
- Leave them to cool then store them in the fridge.
“There’s no more faith in thee than in a stewed prune….”– ~Jack Falstaff to Mistress Quickly in Shakespeare’s Henry the Fourth Part One.
I couldn’t possibly comment on that–but I have enough faith in prunes to take a jar of them to Corfu.