Damson season, and why we wait for it
For a few short weeks every year, little purple plums from the valleys find their way into almost everything we bake. Here’s why we never use frozen fruit — and what we do with the glut.
Cumbria has grown damsons for centuries, and the Lyth Valley in particular is famous for them. In spring the hedgerows froth with white blossom; by late summer the branches are heavy with small, dark, mouth-puckeringly tart fruit that comes alive the moment it meets butter and sugar.
We buy ours from growers we can drive to, a crate or two at a time, and bake with them as soon as they arrive. So the damson bakes only appear when the fruit does — and disappear when it’s gone.
Why not freeze them?
We could. But a damson that’s been frozen and thawed loses the snap of its skin and the brightness of its sourness, and you can taste it. Waiting for the season makes it feel like an event — our regulars start asking about it in August.
“If it isn’t in season, it isn’t on the board.”
On the board this month
Our damson frangipane is back: halved damsons pressed into almond cream in a crisp butter base. You’ll also find damson and cardamom buns on Saturdays, and a damson and almond celebration cake if you order ahead.
Try it at home
Got a tree, or a generous neighbour? This is the simple compote we stir through yoghurt, spoon onto porridge and hide inside our buns.
Bakehouse damson compote
Ingredients
- 500g damsons, washed
- 150g light brown sugar
- A splash of water and a strip of orange peel
Method
- Simmer everything gently for 15 minutes until the fruit collapses.
- Push through a sieve to catch the stones (or fish them out with patience).
- Cool and keep in the fridge for up to a week.
See you at the counter — and if you’re quick, there might still be a slice of frangipane left.