I’ve become a bit of a recluse recently. Book number 2 is taking up all my attention at the moment with a final push before my deadline and I’m digging deep to keep the motivation going. I only really realised how little time I have spent in the garden over the last few weeks after a whole day of gardening on Saturday. The garden had started to look a little rough around the edges but it was the stiffness which followed the gardening that took me by surprise. I felt like I normally do at the start of spring, at this time of year I would expect to be ‘garden fit’. I sat down on Saturday night for an hour or so and then got up to get a cup of tea and Wellyman had to give me a helping push to get me upright. Too much time sat in front of my computer, I think. And, you know you need to get out more when you get a tad too excited about a punnet of greengages at the supermarket.
The greengage is a fruit I’ve heard about but until relatively recently had never actually come across. It had almost started to take on mythical properties – a fruit that had once, many moons ago, filled late summer and early autumn kitchens where cooks wearing mop caps and proper aprons, surrounded by copper pans, would turn them into jams and compotes. Of course, I couldn’t turn down the chance to taste them, so a punnet was purchased. On the way home I wondered why they were such a rarity – they are deemed as a ‘speciality’ fruit by the supermarket. This thought only grew stronger once I had tried them, they were delicious.
Greengages are cultivars of the plum family. If you think greengages are a fruit of the past it turns out there are also yellowgages, such as the amber-coloured ‘Coe’s Golden Drop’, and the strangely titled ‘transparent gages’ like ‘Early Transparent Gage’, not much time was lost on thinking up that name! Greengages tend to be slightly smaller and a bit more round than a normal plum but the most obvious visual difference is the green-coloured fruit. There is something a little odd about biting into a green fruit. Your brain is saying ‘don’t do it, it’ll not be ripe and it’ll taste bitter’ but in the case of greengages your brain couldn’t be more wrong. That first bite is very much of a delightful honeyed sweetness and it is this that distinguishes gages, in all their various hues, from a typical plum. I love plums with their slight tartness but greengages are something else, so why are the shelves of supermarkets groaning under plums, and greengages are sidelined to the ‘unusual fruits’ section?
Greengages have been cultivated from a wild green plum and are popular in Europe, particularly France, Germany and into Eastern Europe. It’s believed that they came to Britain from France in the 18th century, but the story is a little confused. Accounts vary as to whether they were imported by Sir William Gage to plant in his garden at Hengrave Hall in Suffolk or whether it was another branch of the family and Sir Thomas Gage (1781-1820) of Firle Place in Sussex which introduced the greengage. Whichever Gage, the story is that the labels were lost in transit and that when the plums turned out to be green they became known as green Gage’s plums. An avenue of greengages form the structure to the current kitchen garden at Firle.
In France greengages are known as ‘Reine Claudes’ after a 16th century queen. Perhaps she gorged herself on them, which would be perfectly understandable, or maybe the royal gardener discovered these honey-flavoured fruits and named them after her.
‘Cambridge Favourite’, an old heritage variety is the greengage I bought but as it turns out there are quite a few to choose from if you’re thinking of growing your own. Some are more suitable to growing in the UK than others. And this is where we get to the crux of the matter – why they aren’t more widely available as a cultivated fruit? Well it seems like they might be a bit difficult to grow in a typical British climate. Gages need a lot of moisture which isn’t normally a problem for most British growers but they also dislike sitting in waterlogged soil. They also flower early in spring and, whilst the plants are hardy, the blossom is prone to being damaged by early frosts. Siting gages in a sheltered spot with plenty of sunshine to help that sweet, honey flavour to develop is essential. If you live in a frost-prone area there are varieties which flower later such as ‘Late Transparent’ – wow fruit- naming people you really pushed the boat out with those transparent gages. Some gages are self-fertile, others will require another fruit in order to produce a crop. For this reason it’s worth consulting a specialist fruit nursery if you fancy trying to grow your own.
As for how to eat them. Well their natural sweetness makes them perfect for just as they are but they are an incredibly versatile fruit. Try them in crumbles, pies, jams and chutneys.
I often daydream about having my own orchard. The planting plans always included plums but never greengages. I’m not sure I’ll ever have the orchard but hopefully one day I’ll have the space to squeeze in a gage or two.
Greengages are soooosweet, they are amazing! When we made our fruit and veg garden here, I would have loved an orchard but all I could do was have a mini orchard, I bought minarettes and have my greengages that way, along with pears, plums, damsons, and eating apples. We don’t get much of anything, but what we do have is lovely. Yes, I agree, they ought to be grown more often.
Thanks Pauline, that’s a good idea. We haven’t got space for even minarettes at the moment but I do like the idea of them. I can’t eat much sugar so can’t use surplus fruit for jams so a small amount of fruit for us is perfect.
Whilst helping my sister to move recently a neighbour of hers gave us a very welcome cup of tea, having run out of biscuits, we were given greengages with the tea, it was one of the nicest tea breaks I have ever had.
What a lovely tea break. I think I’d rather have greengages than biscuits any time.
As always an enjoyable, and interesting, post. I’m not keen on greengages or plums so don’t eat them. xx
Thanks Flighty.
There is a greengage tree at the Priory, Lou and in 6 years it has only borne fruit once – about three years ago. I was blown away by them and now bore people as to why they are my favourite fruit – like you say, honey’d sweetness. Even that one crop was small (30 fruits perhaps) but every year I’m hopeful for a crop – but sadly there were none again this year. Sob. D
Once in 6 years, that’s frustrating. I feel your lack of greengage pain. Maybe the fact that they seem to be unreliable croppers is why they aren’t more widely cultivated. I wonder if frosts have damaged the blossom? Why is it that the most tasty, desirable crops are often the most difficult to grow? If I see another courgette or leaf of chard this year it’ll be too soon but the delicious earthy beetroot has been my nemesis this summer. Fingers crossed for a bountiful greengage crop next year. Maybe you need to do some sort of ritualistic dance or ceremony like a wassail to encourage a crop next year …. Lou
Nice plums… 😉
Like you I wasn’t very keen to bite into green fruit when a friend brought me some gages to try. I was bowled over by the taste and the sweetness though and went out and bought a tree very soon afterwards!. Sadly, still waiting for my first crop though. I wonder if they are not more widely eaten because people think of them as unripe plums.
That could be a possibility too. It is a little odd because that’s exactly what they look like. I hope you get a crop soon. From the comments I’m beginning to wonder if they’re not grown more widely because they are unreliable croppers.
I first came across Greengages a few years ago when I visited the Morville Garden and was served up greengage jam with scones. Such an incredible flavour, but not too sweet – I was hooked. I’ve put in a self-fertile greengage (Denniston’s Superb) in my current garden and live in hope that it will eventually produce enough to make jam in the future..
I don’t understand why not just Greengages, but also Damsons & Quinces, aren’t grown more over here (I’m also growing the latter 2 as well in my current garden). The flavour is incredible and any time I meet someone who has tried them, they love them, so there must be an untapped market for them.
I really enjoyed your post and learning the history of Greengages in the UK. I’m going to be visiting France soon, so am hoping I’ll be able to pick up some fresh Reine Claudes there!
I hope you get to have the space for your own Greengage tree soon.
In terms of damsons and quince I think it might be because they need cooking really before they can be eaten and we’ve become a culture of wanting food that is quick and easy to eat on the go like bananas and apples. It’s such a pity though – our more traditional fruits have so much more flavour. I love damsons and quince. I’m lucky that a fruit grower sells quince at our local farmers’ market. I’d have all 3 in my dream garden. 🙂
Thank you. Hope you have a great time in France. We’re hoping to go there next year so I might be picking your brain for tips on places to visit.
I hope so too.
I love greenages, but I haven’t had one in years. I do remember them being delicious. I have an orchard dream too, wouldn’t it be wonderful…
They are hard to come across. I’ve only seen them in our local supermarket or at Reg the Veg in Clifton, Bristol. Yes, an orchard would be lovely, with meadow flowers underneath and bee hives in the corner. 🙂
perhaps that explains the yellowy-green plum we inherited. In 8 years I feel as if we’ve had fruit, hmm, a couple of years. Now our first eating plum is blossoming. The Canadian Prunus nigra always blooms for Spring Day on 1st September.
Yes, perhaps and especially if it’s an irregular fruiter. Enjoy your blossom – it’s one of my favourite times of year. 🙂
Here in Melbourne Australia my aunt had a greengage plum tree, and I loved being there when they were ripe. a couple of years ago I found some in a green grocers but they didn’t have quite the taste I remembered. Hopefully there’s someone here in Victoria growing them and I’ll search next March
Hope you manage to find some greengages. I’ve heard they don’t keep well, so perhaps the flavour of those in the green grocers was a result of them not being super fresh. 🙂
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i love greengages and always would bring a jar of Reine-claudes jam home whenever I went to France.. The more yellow skinned version you mention are odd in that when I have made jam with them they turn a slightly pink tone when cooked, Tasted good though. Really interesting read.
Thank you! I’m hoping to get to France next year. Maybe I should time it for the greengage and plum harvest. 🙂
Very interesting, Louise! It’s a fruit I’ve never considered or eaten. If it’s a sweet form of plums, which I love, and do grow, I would really love to give them a try. Must keep a look out or, better still, investigate the possibility of growing ourselves. Good luck with the new book! 🙂
Thank you, Ali! You could perhaps try a good green grocer. I spotted some in Bristol the other week. Thank you for your good wishes regarding the book – I’m getting there. 😉
Yes, really interesting to have the background of greengages, WW. Like Pauline I have planted some minarettes/columnar fruit trees, including a greengage – supposedly Denniston’s Superb – which has had about a dozen fruits in this it’s second year. Unfortunately, they look and taste suspiciously like Victoria plums, something I shall be taking up with the growers…. 😦
Oh no! Mislabelling is soooo annoying, particularly with something like a tree or shrub where it takes a while before you know there has been a mistake. I have a hydrangea which should have been ‘Annabelle’ – it isn’t ……
I adore greengages! It was interesting to read that greengages may not produce a crop every year. Two years ago we were inundated with them and last year not one. It did get a hard prune though so maybe that’s why? I’m lucky enough to have 2 other plum trees, a quince, persimmon, apples, feijoas and I’m in the middle of planting up a Nuttery which will also include other edibles like elderflower and damson – yum!
Wow! All that fruit and a nuttery, it all sounds fabulous. Fruit trees do sometimes have a very good year followed by a quiet year, maybe they just need a rest. 😉
A fascinating tale as to how the name ‘greengage’ came about WW. As you say there is something that makes you feel slightly apprehensive about biting into a green coloured fruit. Not quite green but yellow look out for ‘Mirabelle’ plums if you go to France next year. Simply delicious.
Hi Anna, I’ve heard about mirabelles but never tried them. I’m thinking a trip to France is going to become a bit of a foodie holiday. 🙂
I now have visions of you cooking greengages resplendent in a mop cap… My sympathies with the workload and the consequent lack of garden time – and stiffness when you do get out there. Hopefully it will all be worth it! Having just visited Sue Beesley’s garden I very much hanker after an orchard too, but hey ho… I’ve never eaten a greengage, which appears to be very much my loss.
I shouldn’t whinge about being busy, it just feels overwhelming at times. Wellyman is just about to finish his 5th year on his OU degree and go straight into his final year so he’ll be finished by next June. Yey!!! Between me writing and then proofreading his work and him writing and then proofreading my stuff we’re a bit worded out. 😉
Sue Beesley’s place sounds fabulous. It’s on the way up north too. Maybe I should try and look at stopping off their next year. Do you have a Waitrose near by, they’ve got greengages in at the moment?
In Danish they’re also called Reine Claude, and we had a large tree in my childhood garden. And really, they aren’t very good for cooking; there’s not enough acidity to make decent jams or tarts, so they’re much better eaten as they are – preferably when you’re 10 and perched in the top of the tree with a mediocre comic!