Green Aisle Grocery

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When we first moved into our tiny quarters on 1618 East Passyunk last summer, our landlady den mother Angela promised us organically grown plums from her backyard. Actually, she promised us peaches, which is what she calls these garnet beauties in her Spanglitalian accent. Fall moved into winter, and Angela kept talking plums peaches. The weather warmed, and the statuesque tree in her jungle of a backyard started to fruit. Peaches or plums, it was anyone’s guess.

The heat waves and the rain have been hell on humans, but good to Angela’s tree, which started producing… plums (!) two weeks ago. Branches bow like gentlemanly suitors under the weight of the clustered fruits. Overripe orbs litter the concrete ground, snacks for squirrels. Angela’s Jurassic tomato and squash plants look on with envy.

We asked Angela when she planted the plum tree, expecting the answer to be sometime during the LBJ administration, around the time she moved to South Philly from Montevideo, Uruguay. (Homegirl is a regular Carmen San Diego, having lived in Milan and Buenos Aires, too.) But no; the tree’s a mere 10 years old, but apparently strong enough to have withstood the tornado that toppled so many of its granddaddies last week.

We also asked Angela if she happened to know the variety of plums overtaking her backyard. She shrugged. “I don’t know what kind of peaches they are.” Their smooth, matte skin varies from violet to red, with strokes of orange and gold. The flesh beneath is dark and so juicy it’ll run rivers down your chin. The plums are superlatively sweet, but not overbearingly so. Each bite explodes with different tones: honey, flowers and cherry candy, balanced by light, refreshing acid and an herbal, almost grassy je na sais quoi. These plums may have a proper name,  but we’re calling them Red Angels, after their grower. We’ll be harvesting them every few days through the season. Later, there will be pickled plums and plum jams, but for now we’re selling them fresh and ripe, in pints of 6 to 7 fruits (size-depending) for just $4. If you don’t see them on our table, ask, and maybe Angela can pick you a few fresh off the tree. Just tell her you think her peaches are great.