A tub of plums landed on the counter this morning. They’re too good to just eat over the sink, so there’s going to be a tart. Soon.

Look at that dusty white coating. That’s the bloom, a natural wax the fruit makes on its own, and it rubs off the moment you handle it. When it’s still this thick nobody has been polishing them or digging through the box. They got here pretty much the way they left the tree.

The colour is all over the place. Some are mostly red, some are butter yellow with a pink blush, and one near the middle is still a bit green. A couple have small splits where they swelled faster than the skin could keep up (that tends to happen after rain or a heavy watering). Split ones won’t keep. They go in first.

The plan is simple. Halve them and work the stones out. Some of these will cling, which is fine, those get quartered. Pack them cut side up on a buttery base, snug against each other, sugar over the top, hot oven. The juice runs and goes jammy at the edges while the yellow flesh turns pink.

The greener ones need a day or two in a paper bag first. A firm plum bakes up sour and a bit dry, and more sugar won’t fix it.

So. Tart in a couple of days. Pictures when it’s out of the oven.

• plums
• plum tart
• baking
• fruit
• late summer