Welcome back to the Ruth Leigh Writes blog! If you’re reading this, it’s because you subscribed (thank you), you follow me on the socials, you read my books or we’ve met at an event. However you know me, it’s good to have you along.
For both the first and last blog of the year, as usual, I’m mining my own life for content. Recently, my husband returned from a trip to Canterbury with an impulse buy of a large paper bag of medlars. These largely forgotten fruits used to be everywhere in England, but nowadays, you’ll be lucky to find them. There is a good reason for that. They are weird.
Before you can do anything with your medlars, you have to blet them. This means putting them in a box in a dark place in October and letting them rot for about a month. Honestly. Then you get them out, put them in a maslin pan with some water and boil them up. At this point, your husband puts his head around the kitchen door and says, “What on earth is that terrible smell, Ruth?”
Take the resulting liquid and strain it through a muslin bag overnight into another pan. In the morning, your family will come into the kitchen holding their noses and ask again what on earth it is you think you’re doing. Smiling confidently, you assure them that you once read a blog about this and it will all be absolutely fine. Measure your liquid, get out your trusty jams and jellies book, add the correct amount of sugar and boil vigorously until you reach setting point. Anyone remaining in the house will come in again, wrinkling their nose, and question your sanity. The smell is getting worse.
However, you will have the last laugh. Once you have potted up the resulting mixture, you’ll be left with a row of jars filled with a deep ruby jelly which is absolutely delicious, doesn’t smell horrid and goes particularly well with blue cheese. I would put a picture up, but my medlars aren’t quite bletted enough, so you will have to be content with an image of my quince and apple jelly instead.
We are getting to the point. Stick with me. In the meantime, let’s find out some fun medlar facts.
1. They were introduced to the UK in medieval times.
2. They are part of the rose family.
3. Insects and bees love them and they’re great for pollination.
4. The French call them cul de chien, which translates as, “dogs’ bottoms”. You will see why by looking at the picture.
5. Some people eat them raw, post-bletting. I don’t know who these people are but I suspect they may not be quite right in the head (not to be judgy).
6. Shakespeare mentions them in four of his plays, making rude jokes about them in, “Romeo and Juliet.” Chaucer also refers to them in, “The Canterbury Tales”.
These strange-looking little fruits which need to rot before they are edible are a metaphor, I would suggest. Life is full of pain, disappointment and challenges. We struggle to get to the place we want, to achieve our goals and dreams. Sometimes, we feel as though we are gazing into a bag of partially bletted medlars.
However, it’s all about the long game. If we really believe that those evil-smelling objects can be transformed into something beautiful, we have to go through each challenge and try to ignore unhelpful comments. For writers, that’s often like the malevolent little voice whispering in our ears.
“What makes you think anyone will read your words?”
“You’re just showing off.”
“You’ll never make it.”
Most days, I tell that voice to go back to where it came from and keep on writing anyway. It’s often difficult and challenging, but if we keep on keeping on, those bitter, hard, ugly fruits can be transformed into something amazing.
Whatever your challenges as we come up to Christmas, let me encourage you. You can’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear, but you can use the unfair, painful and annoying challenges life handed you to craft something beautiful. I do, every day, and I hope you can too.
Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year and here’s to 2026.