I’ve been feeling nostalgic lately, which happened in a flash last week when I drove south on El Camino Real, passing the land that used to be Olson’s cherry orchards. The aging cherry trees have been pulled out to make way for more shopping centers and apartments, which is also the fate for Brentwood, west of Stockton, where much of our California fruit has been coming from in the last decade.
I grew up in the Santa Clara Valley in Northern California, the home of the finest apricots grown in America because of it’s wonderful climate. Unfortunately, the trees were gradually pulled out and houses built to create Silicon Valley, but dotted around backyards and vacant lots are a few precious apricot trees. Apricot jam is just part of the legacy of living here and for good reason; it is luscious. Look for roadside stands and at farmer’s markets. The season is very short. Making jam was never so easy and no boiling of jars.
Not Your Mother's is a registered trademark of The Harvard Common Press.
® Copyright 2008-2009 The Harvard Common Press. All Rights Reserved. | Press Inquiry