Ink and Quinces

Knopper galls are jolly hard little lumps.  I spent part of Sunday morning smacking them with a lump hammer, and then trying to grind the pieces into something like a powder between a brick and a slab of concrete.

What I got was a few very course ‘coffee’ grounds and a lot of very polished lumps of knopper gall.  They do polish up quite nicely.

Gall ink recipes call for water, gall powder, iron salts, and gum Arabic.  Some recipes are quite sophisticated and ask for ferrous chemicals with classy names, and others simply suggest adding a handful of rusty nails.  I prefer experiments that can be conducted with the stuff already laying about the place, so I went for the handful of rusty nails.  There is no shortage of those from when the lad was busting up pallets around here. 

Boiled and strained (couldn't decide which photo to use.....)

Later I read a suggestion to use (as the iron component) steel wool that has soaked a few days in vinegar – now that too sounds doable with stuff you find under the sink or laying about the workshop.

Gum Arabic on the other hand is not something I have just casually occupying a corner under the sink.  I wonder what Mediaeval scribes used before gum Arabic came their way – ox bile or something equally unlikely to be found in my 21^st century kitchen….  (Oh goodness I just g**gled ox bile and discover it really is a thing in 21^st century lifestyle!)  Anyway it is not found in my kitchen or workshop or allotment shed.  

More g**gling – talk about going down a rabbit hole – ancient scribes used to use honey, but cornstarch, whipped egg-whites, or gelatine might work. 

By the way ox bile never was on that list of ink thickeners. I just tried to imagine something weird, and unobtainable, in modern life – and failed.

This year I picked the quinces BEFORE they fell on the lawn. Quinces, even when ripe are also ‘jolly hard’.  (They do not, however, polish up nicely.)  When cut, they oxidize in a nano second, and it takes more than a lot of nano seconds to work your way through a bucketful turning them into chopped quince ready for cooking.

You can just see the brown reflected inside the pot

Fortunately the boiled up result is less ugly than the pot full of browned quince pieces.  On cooking they explode into ‘fluffy’ quince pulp  which I have ’bottled’ (our word for canning in jars) for winter use in pies.  The next bucketful will be turned into Membrillo.  

Quinces are far from qualifying as the world’s most delightful fruit, being gritty textured and sour, but their fragrance is wonderful and they do make an excellent preserve that is guaranteed to set.  And we have an ample free supply of the ’orrible things.

Waste not, want not.  Frankly, I'd not want for quinces if I had none.