Fruit Fly Jelly Recipe

This recipe makes a single jar and may be doubled to make three jars, tripled to make twenty.  ( Fruit flies reproduce every twelve hours)

This jelly is an excellent protein supplement for small children, invalids and those with no sense of humour.

It’s easy, quick and economical

Place a single layer of strips of banana peel carefully on the bottom of a large heavy-bottomed cooking pot. Cover*.  Leave 24 hours... 36 hours for a thicker product.  (One procrastinating jam-maker waited 48 hours and had an extraordinary yield of jam from breeding fruit flies.  He did, however, have to evacuate the house for two weeks after a single over-flowing batch.) 

Meanwhile, sterilise a jar.  Care must be taken in the process to ensure that the jar isn’t contaminated from those ubiquitous, unauthorized, domestic, terrorist-type plum-loving fruit flies.  Have your vacuum cleaner handy.

In a smaller pot, boil a solution of four parts sugar to one part water.  Bring to the soft rubber ball stage on your candy thermometer.

Quickly and carefully lift the large pot’s lid and pour the sugar syrup over the flies, dispatching them quickly and humanely.  When cool, strain the fly syrup through cheese cloth to remove the banana peel and the cheese (Note: It doesn't remove the flies... nothing does,)   Pour directly into the hot, sterilized jar, sealing quickly.  Let cool completely.

 Helpful tips:

---If, as you’re pouring the jelly into the hot jar, more fruit flies jump in too, then simply re-label the jelly as jam.

--- Don't store this product in the house, it attracts fruit flies.

--- If you have extra flies, try them in your home-made scented candles and bath oils.

*Covering the pot keeps wasps out. But don’t be concerned that the lid will prevent fruit flies from entering the pot.  They can do it.

 PS ... I discovered the genius of this recipe while I was actually supposed to be transcribing the minutes of the previous Director’s meeting.

Plum Wasp Crumble ....Nick Jackson ... Sept 26 09

Not being one for one-upmanship  I hesitate to share my plum wasp crumble recipe with you, but what the heck here goes ( after all Thanksgiving is just around the corner and I know that you will really want to pull out  all the stops for your fellow villagers:

Acquire 24 large over ripe windfall plums which will already be festooned with yellow jackets - professionals harvest the product using tongs, the ignorant and/or foolhardy use their bare hands.

Pit the plums, taking great care not to disturb the wasp feeding frenzy, thus creating a greater surface area for ever more wasps to gorge on (pitting is optional but beware of being sued for the dental costs that go with cracked teeth)

Place the fruit/insect melange in a suitable buttered oven proof container, add a sprinkle of cinnamon and drizzle with Aunt Jemima pancake syrup.

Select well ventilated hot sunny window ledge and allow the insect mass to double in size (23~26 minutes before noon, 4 minutes less after 2pm).

While the dish is naturally leavening pre-heat the oven to 475 degrees and mix 1/2 cup sifted flour, 1/2 cup naturally stone rolled oats, 1/2 cup low trans fat omega rich shortening until it forms coarse clumps. (no added salt is required as the wasps are naturally tangy).

This next step requires a deft hand and lightning fast reflexes and should not be attempted by persons with known heart or vision issues.

Carry the now seething wasp/fruit dish carefully to the kitchen, open the oven door in a manner as not to alarm the bio mass, then in a single uninterrupted move dump the topping over the mix, whip the dish into the oven and slam the door shut. If you fail to complete this step successfully you should exit the premises by the fastest method possible and call a paramedic and an exterminator.

On the assumption that the last step was entirely successful the heat should be turned down to 375 degrees. Now all you have to do is wait 36~42 minutes until the topping is golden and the wasps smell cooked, before removing the dish and setting it aside to cool and rest uncovered for 32 minutes to allow a light dusting garnish of fresh wasps to alight before serving.

Due to the extreme risk of multiple facial, lip and tongue stings from the garnish a trip to Costco for a bulk buy of epi-pens is strongly recommended.

Give thanks and enjoy this protein enriched crumble with friends and those whom you wish to leave a lasting impression with.

Fruit Fly Village

I suppose by now, if you’ve been reading my recent string of tales, you know that every morning, I take the black dog on an unvarying route down the lane, past the farms and towards the pastures and mountains at the back of our property.

By taking this very same walk each day, I’m tuning myself into the tiny, incremental daily changes that happen, as the seasons roll, from one into the next. Every day, there is a shift.

It’s cooler this morning as I meander. The sun is still lingering behind the mountain and mists lie low over the fields. Each leaf and petal has drip hanging on its tip. The air is cool and moist; the birds are squeaking in loosely-flying flocks and the grass makes juicy squishes underfoot. Dandelions ... their fluff heads looking wet and clumpy ... have had their morning dew-shower and are not yet blown dry. Cheeky Stellar’s Jays are stealing nuts and shrieking their nut-news to their accomplices in the other hazelnuts trees. ( Jays are always ‘cheeky’ regardless of what they’re doing)

... It’s Fall! .... I’m thinking.

And then, all of a sudden, the sun heaves itself over the mountain top and flings its strength widely down, and through, the valley. The mists gather up their skirts in haste and run for the hills. Instant warmth promises later heat. It’s summer, back again.

Yesterday had turned into a hot day, too. I noticed a hot-day buzzing noise as I was tiling in my new house. I’m working on laying out a pattern of river pebbles and stone tiles on the expanse of kitchen floor, ready to transfer onto the walls around my bathtub. An inordinate number of houseflies had made it into my living room ... and why wouldn’t they want to come into my beautiful space when I leave all the doors and windows wide open? They’re making a big racket against the glass. I open the window and they evaporate.

(Speaking of flies evaporating ... Have you noticed how fruit flies do the opposite? They expand into huge realms by spontaneous generation. Half a dozen flew out of my fridge this morning. I have fruit flies in my cutlery drawer.)

As I’m letting the flies out the window, I can see one of our farmers, from my lofty height. He’s in his field down below, gently tossing rye seed in a wide-sided basket and letting the wind blow the chaff off. I’m imagining that the sound is taking a little longer to reach me.

The whole farm is spread out around me and the folks are busy ant-people ... each, oblivious to the others. A gardener has her summer sun hat on and is bending over tending her vegetables in her community garden patch.

One of the workmen is barrowing construction supplies past the silo building and the dirt mountain the children play on.

Now, the farmer is doing something else ... pulling out some squash plants?

We have people here now, getting on and doing the things people do.

Living.

I take a tour through the farm to see who’s here. Our elder is heading over to the office with a sheaf of papers and books tucked under her arm and the key dangling from her fingers.

She doesn’t see me.

There’s some hammering.

One of our hands-on people is putting an extra window into the shed where he’s setting up his cabinet-making business.

Around the other side, a mum is tucking her kids into their van to take one of them to soccer practice.

A couple of the men are splitting wood at the front where we’d had some trees taken down, to make way for power lines. I can see their sweat from here ... I can almost smell how hard they’re chopping.

And just as I can’t be sure whether it’s fall or summer, I can’t tell you whether our Ecovillage is still in its forming, pioneering stage, or it’s made it over the mountain ridge and is shining as a settling, consolidating village. Are we there yet, I wonder?

The seasons are a certainty in how they come. Always fall after winter. Fruit flies come with bananas and stay with plums. Wasps hover around the edge of the roof where their nests are, and cruise in through open windows. The sunshine turns golden and softer.

Humans in villages aren’t so certain.

The Chinese have a special season they insert at this time of the year, that is about ripening fruit, consolidating plenty and sharing abundance. I would call it “Fruit Fly” season, if I didn’t think they’d mind ... the Chinese, I mean. Fruit flies are about all those things, but are too busy being fruit flies, to care what I call their season. And maybe our villagers are too busy too, to be pondering what our village will be in the future.

They just are. And the village just is.

And that’s perfect.

YES featured in the Vancouver Sun

We are featured in the Vancouver Sun this weekend. The mosaic that makes up our community is well represented as a large number of our members are quoted or pictured in the article. Congrats to all involved!