Bottled Figs with Red Wine and Spices, and a whole lot more besides!

The one problem with water bath processing is that it involves a whole lot of water and power. Often, a person who has a small home garden may find it hard to justify using a water bath; when you seem to have enough produce for only one bottle, there's no point getting out the preserving machine.

Then again, getting out the machine can motivate you to look around and see what else is available, even in a little garden.

Take this week. A friend dropped by with two quinces. They were windfalls she had found on the footpath, and she thought I might know how to use them. True. But by the time I cut out the wormholes, there wasn't really enough to bake or make marmalade or paste. Perhaps there was enough for one or two bottles of poached quinces, not enough to justify a water bath.

But then I noticed a dozen fat figs on the tree going begging, also not enough for jam or paste, but too many to eat in one go.

And our pear tree had a few pears on it, very ripe.

And our little espaliered apple trees were starting to drop their several fruits.

And our veggie box had delivered a big bag of black grapes last week, but my fussy kids hadn't eaten them.

And there were some roma tomatoes sitting in the fruit basket, and they're good for canning.

And my four-year-old is going through a chopping stage, and wants to spend all day cooking.

So this is what we did.

I made a honey syrup for the quinces and lightly poached them. Then we packed them across two jars; they came two thirds of the way up the sides. We topped them up with apples from the garden, aiming for a casual layered look.

My daughter halved all the figs while I warmed a little leftover red wine with some sugar and spices. We barely poached the figs in the fragrant syrup, then packed them in a jar.

According to the Fowlers Vacola book, preserved grapes are 'excellent'. I have my doubts, but I'll try anything once, so my daughter carefully halved all the black grapes and we bottled them in water with a tablespoon of blackberry honey.

We peeled and cored the pears, and packed them with a tablespoon of sugar and a cinnamon stick.

Finally, my daughter quartered and packed the tomatoes.

A bit over an hour and six jars later, we had enough to justify running the processor and my daughter was beaming. And so was I. Now we have five desserts ready for winter, plus a bottle of tomatoes, to add to our stash in the hall cupboard.

As everything was very simple I won't record the recipes except, perhaps, for the figs.

Bottled Figs in Red Wine and Spices For each Fowlers #20 jar: - 12-15 fat black figs - 3 tbs red wine - 3 tbs white sugar - 1 stick cinnamon - 6 cloves Gently warm the wine, sugar and spices with 150ml water in a medium sized saucepan, shaking until the sugar has dissolved. Cut off the fig stalks, and halve each fig. Place the figs in the saucepan, and cook for 4 or 5 minutes, gently shaking from time to time. Allow to cool. Pour much of the liquid into a #20 Fowlers jar, holding back the figs with a slotted spoon. Now gently pack the figs into the liquid, using a packing stick to release any air bubbles. Seal and process according to instructions. Note: This doesn't look like a lot of liquid. However, as the figs soften they will release ample liquid, which should be sufficient to cover them in the bottle. If you do find yourself a bit short, however, just top up with a little cold water. You might also like to add a long strip of orange peel, or perhaps a few drops of orange flower water, to each jar. PS – I'm sure a real food blogger would manage a nice photo. The figs are ugly and the glare from the glass is terrible. But trust me, they're good! (Backyard: black figs. Healesville: wine. Not so local: sugar, spice.)

Quince Marmalade, and Heavenly Baked Apples

I stuck my head deep into the preserves cupboard looking for jam, and found a long-forgotten jar of quince marmalade. More than two years old, it was still a lovely pink, and had retained its heady scent and delicate flavour. So we had toasted cheese sandwiches for lunch, with a good blob of marmalade on the side; and baked apples stuffed with quince for dinner. I dotted the apples with a bit of butter, and poured a little water into the pan in which they stood. Some of the marmalade oozed out of the apples and combined with the butter and water to make a luscious sticky syrup, which I scraped up and drizzled over the apples before serving.

Before you sniff that marmalade is made with citrus fruit, let me tell you that, according to no less an authority than the Oxford English Dictionary, the word 'marmalade' has its roots in the Portuguese word 'marmelo', or quince. From this came 'marmelada', referring to quince preserves (jam or paste), and from there, the English 'marmalade'.

Although it's a bit late for quinces, there are still a few bobbing around the markets. If you find some, put them in a bowl in your kitchen; the room will fill with their aroma. You can enjoy their scent for a few deliciously fragrant days before making marmalade.

Quince Marmalade - 4 respectably heavy quinces, about 750g - 4 cups sugar - 3 cups water - juice and grated zest of an orange Rub the fuzz off the fruit, core them, then grate them coarsely. A food processor is the easiest way. If you are using a hand grater, really gouge the fruit into the grater to get good thick threads. Alternatively, julienne the fruit, cutting it into slender even strips. Bring the sugar and water to a boil and stir to dissolve the sugar. Add the quinces. They will float, so stir and push them under the water with a wooden spoon until they sink. Add the orange zest, turn down the heat, and leave to simmer very gently for 1½ hours, or until the quinces have turned deep pink. Leave to cool overnight. The next day, add the orange juice and bring back to the boil. Turn down the heat and cook gently for another hour or so, or until you have a wet marmalade. Pour into clean sterilized jars and seal. Adapted from a recipe by Deborah Madison in The Savory Way. (Local: quince, orange. Not local: sugar.)