28 Oct 2026
Elena Hogg, founder of local culinary company FOOD by Elena, knows there’s no making apples of plums…
I encountered a gastronomic dilemma at the weekend which resulted in an accidental and very happy discovery. We were having some cheese at the end of our meal and found ourselves clean out of grapes.
No figs were to be found lurking in the fridge, either – the other typical cheeseboard accompaniment – so crisis ensued. A quick raid of the fruit bowl had us taking a punt on plums, which worked very well despite our misgivings.
Plums provide the fresh wateriness of grapes, but also have the deep sweetness of figs, especially if they’re ripe and soft. I’ve never seen plums as a natural companion for cheese, but I’m now a convert, and am contemplating adding plums this autumn as a regular feature of my grazing tables…
Plums are a summer fruit, but stray into the autumn months and I have found huge punnets on sale at low prices recently, no doubt to offload late-harvested hauls that won’t keep much longer. Plums embrace their seasonal duality with ease: as well as starring in summer fruit salads, they offer themselves up willingly for crumbles and cobblers, which are exactly the kind of dessert I want when the nights start to draw in. I call it ‘cold-weather carb-loading’ because the alliteration negates the calories.
I recall going for brunch on my first wedding anniversary back in 2009 at a restaurant called The Modern Pantry, which sadly no longer exists. They served a plum muffin that was light and fluffy, but most memorable of all was that it had been made with pink peppercorns, which felt revolutionary at the time. The slight piquancy really set off the plums’ natural sweetness.
This memory inspired me to try another heat-giving ingredient with plums: ground ginger. I sliced up some firm red plums, leaving some halved, and sprinkled with ginger powder as well as brown sugar, and roasted at 175 degrees for about half an hour. Their flavour, but also their deep ruby colour, intensifies with roasting.
I served them alongside a tahini and black sesame cake, so the ground ginger gave a fiery edge to the treacly plums, which in turn complemented the earthy, nutty and slightly bitter flavour of the tahini.
Texture-wise, too, the slippery plums provided a real contrast to the crumbly cake.
I’d made this dish for the 801 Supper Club, run by two fabulous women whose aim it is to support local professional women juggling work, family and home life. I’m pleased to say all plates were scraped clean, so at least I know I’ve provided my own dessert- shaped support to these tireless women.
As well as peppercorns and ginger, though, plums seem to have a natural affinity with so many spices, like cinnamon, star anise and nutmeg.
These kinds of ingredients truly catapult us into the cuisine of deepest autumn, which always feels like a culinary hug, a kind of ‘coming home’.
And because there’s no better way to start the day than with a hug, I’ve decided to inject some spicy plumminess into my morning breakfast routine, and with minimal effort. I roughly chop up some plums – any variety at all will do. They then go straight into a saucepan, to which you add sugar or sweetener to taste, then your aromats: a stick of cinnamon, a few pieces of star anise, a grind of nutmeg or pepper, or perhaps a couple of cloves (go easy here as clove can overpower things all too easily). You might even try some fennel seeds or hibiscus – the floral note really works with plums. Next squeeze in some lemon juice and give everything a mix.
In just 10 minutes, you have a delicious plum compote to blanket your morning porridge with, or your overnight oats. Add whatever bits and bobs you feel inspired by for an extra morning buzz: some gogi berries, flax, pumpkin seeds or almonds for crunch, or even – hell, why not? – some dark chocolate chips. After all, winter’s on its way and we all need the boost.
And if breakfast bowls really aren’t your thing, then that same plum compote wouldn’t go amiss spread thickly over your toasted sourdough, or dare I say in a hot bacon roll instead of ketchup for an altogether posher and trendy meat-with-sweet vibe.
In fact, going back to the cheeseboard this all began with, I’ve got some aged gouda in the fridge for this weekend and I might well try it with a dollop of my spicy, fruity compote. It’s a plum life…
