Back when Girl Meets Dirt was still just a blog about learning to grow things, I planted an orchard — the old preserving fruits I'd only read about in the French and English cookbooks. Damson was one of them. This is the first year those trees gave a real harvest.

Tiny, indigo, and mighty, the damson has been prized by jam-makers for centuries for its tart, puckering sharpness. Deep purple, tart and rounded, with an herbal lemon finish from the lemon balm I handpicked in the garden — just right against the touch of tannin in the damson skins. It'll bring Pez to mind, if Pez went to finishing school.

Spread it on buttery toast, pair it with a triple crème, or eat it straight off the spoon.

A tiny farmette batch — just 68 jars, from trees I planted by hand. When it's gone, it's gone until the trees decide to give again.