foraging in a hotel parking lot: September 3

This morning I met Bec on the porch outside of our hotel room.  I was eating purselane growing in the crack between the sidewalk and the parkway.  She was curious.  We took a walk to look for other edibles, and spotted an apple tree.  We have apples, but many of them have brown spots inside, blemishes most people would be bothered by.  I gave the nice ones away to a family who was sitting on the side of a road with a cardboard sign that read, “anything helps.”  We picked a few, not the tastiest but certainly prettier than the ones from Boulder.  The gardener spotted us, and stopped what he was doing to tell us about a cherry tree on the other side of the property.  Turns out, they were plums, small red plums, but tasty.  I went to get Andre and dad so they could join in on the fun of harvesting.  We probably picked 7 pounds, using this method: dad  would shake the tree gently, then we’d pick up all the plums from the ground.  Sometimes he’d shake the tree while we were still picking, so plums would come raining down on us.  Some passersby noticed we were having too much fun and asked what we were doing.  I told them about our favorite method of preservation—soaking them in a glass jar filled with vodka and a hint of sugar for about a month.  They grabbed a bag and started filling it.  I can always find something that inspires people to forage… booze is usually a good one.