SFist in the Kitchen: Plumcots and Apriums

Plumcots and their kin are the focus of a fascinating and heated debate in the plum industry. No one quite knows what to do with the crossbreeds. The California association that governs the state's plum farmers decreed that plumcots couldn't be sold as plums because of the apricot heritage. This made them a tough sell to retailers, who didn't think they could afford to educate their shoppers about this new fruit. But then the autumnal Dapple Dandy (aka Dinosaur Egg) came along, and the equation changed. The variety took off like wildfire, and plumcots quickly supplanted twenty percent of plum sales. The powers-that-be at the plum association must have been annoyed by this, since their earlier judgment robbed them of the assessment fee farmers would normally pay. Some farmers took the same view as the retailers, and once plumcot prices came down to the plum harvest's level, they just wanted to sell their whole harvest as plums to avoid confusion. The hybrids looked like plums, smelled like plums, and tasted like plums. By now, the state has reached an uneasy compromise: you can call them plums but you have to pay the assessment fee, or you can call them plumcots or pluots and fend for yourself. But many growers want the state to make a decision about the categorization soon, so that plumcots can enjoy the trade association's benefits that other stone fruits do.

We know what you're thinking. "Hello?! This is a food column, not an economics case study!" Thanks for the reminder. If you'd prefer to eat plumcots and not try and sort through a statewide plum shouting match, we'd suggest you follow the advice in the "Plums and Pluots" chapter of Chez Panisse Fruit. "Choose plums and pluots that look plump and well-colored for their variety. If they are aromatic and give to gentle pressure, they're ripe and ready to eat. Fruit that is firm but not hard will soften and ripen further at home, but it won't get any sweeter." That sage advice precedes a delicious-sounding recipe that pairs sweet plums with pork tenderloin. Waters also swoons over "wild plum jam" from the ornamental plum trees in Berkeley. We're not sure how "wild" they really are, but we imagine the jam tastes good even when made with plumcots.

Or you could take the simple road and just place plumcots, apriums, and strawberries into a lemon-curd filled tart. Glaze with melted Pumpkin Blossom honey from Marshall's Farms for a little sugar and sheen. And we always suggest rolling leftover pie dough into a rectangle, brushing it with melted butter, sprinkling cinnamon and sugar over the surface, and then rolling it all up and baking it for about twenty minutes. But that doesn't have anything to do with plumcots.