Alys Fowler: Medlars

Medlars, Mespilus germanica, are much like Marmite – they divide opinion. If you gave my mother a dish of beautiful bletted (more on that later) medlars for Christmas, as my uncle once did, you'd quickly find them on the compost. I was fascinated by these strange-looking fruit, each wound up in tissue paper to stop their mushy insides exploding. I rescued them from the compost and ate them. I remember they tasted of custard. But there's more to them than that – sweet like a date, a hint of lemon and a little apricot.

It is not those flavours that divide opinion. It's the fact that you have to eat them fermented, or more truthfully rotten – and that they resemble an arse.

The fermentation process is called bletting and was coined by the botanist John Lindley in 1848, the point when the medlar was perhaps at its most popular in Britain (and when most of the few cultivars were introduced). The Romans and Greeks also grew it. Bletting allows the cell walls to break down, converting starch into sugars and decreasing the acid and tannins. It makes a hard, bitter fruit into a sweet one.

It's almost impossible to transport a ripe medlar; they burst at the slightest pressure and selling an unripe medlar with a "leave to rot" tag isn't a priority for most shops. So the medlar remains a forgotten fruit. It's a shame because it is the perfect small garden tree.

It is best grown as a standard, which allows its spreading, twisted branches an opportunity to shine. The flowers are large with five pinkish white petals and appear at the tip of the branch so are crowned by the dark green leaves. By autumn these leaves have turned orange-gold and the fruit a lovely russet-brown.

The fruit ripen best on the tree after a sharp frost, but too many frosts and they overripen. A ready fruit is dark brown, wrinkled and soft or mushy. They will ripen indoors on a plate, bottom end down. To eat raw, peel the stalk end, hold the crown and squish out the fruit. They have a lot of pips. Otherwise cook them as jellies or jams or bake them with white wine, a little dark sugar and vanilla bean. Then purée them and serve with panna cotta or cream.

A mature tree grows to around 5-6 metres high and fruits young. It is self-pollinating and happy in most soils. A mulch in spring will help young plants retain moisture. Little pruning required, perhaps a little tidying if it's growing unruly (but that is part of its charm), a little thinning. The most popular varieties are 'Nottingham', noted for its fine flavour, and 'Royal' for larger fruit.

Alys on... pink flowers

There is a front garden near me that has a whole row that peep over the low front wall – a cheery sight on the way to the shops. The leaves and flower spikes are gladioli-like, tall, green, strap-like and basically inoffensive, which means you can tuck them into suitable spots and forget about them until they do their thing. They want moderately fertile soil and don't want to dry out, ever. Shelter them from harsh drying winds and add lots of organic matter if you are planting them below a wall (where there's often a rain shadow). 'Jennifer' is a very pretty salmon pink, 'Major' a robust red that works well against brick and 'Sunrise' a slightly lurid salmon pink version, but pretty enough on a grey day.