I just spent the last week in Dorset. It had me positively wanting to don my walking boots, breathe the fresh air - slightly tainted by manure - and whistle Greig's Morgenstimmung all day long. Fortunately, my dignity stayed in tact. I was also hampered by the fact I don't own walking boots and will only walk if there is the promise of food and drink at the other end.
They are so proud of their food down there and Dorset cheeses were offered everywhere
What a strange time of year. As a newbie to vegetable gardening and being too distracted by pride with what had been successful, I missed the band wagon and subsequently planted nothing else this year. Curses. All was not lost! A friend of mine with superfluous plums was kind enough to give us a bag full. What to do with that many plums...I consulted my various books and found a recipe I had written out by hand. I've no idea where it came from originally