On Berry-Picking:

Sitting here this morning I’m realizing that we have a few short weeks here at Tanglewood before fruit season is in full swing. The wild berries are blooming in abundance, and the cultivars are only slightly behind them (and I’ve begrudgingly noticed that the pollinators all appear to prefer those wild to my cultivated berries).

Once the fruit begins to trickle in, I will likely exchange my quiet mornings of sitting and reading for quiet mornings up to my neck in black raspberry bushes. Last year I was able to pick gallons upon gallons of berries and if the weather continues to be warm with juuuuuust enough rain we will likely have another incredible harvest. I spent hours on horseback, one afternoon last June, scoping out local wild berry patches before they were in full swing. We are lucky to have huge swathes of black raspberries, and entire seas of the more invasive european blackberry. More difficult to spot (but just as valuable for their intensely high levels of pectin) are the wild gooseberries that peek defensively from underneath unassuming leaves, but the most prized of all of the wild berries in my book are the wild hybrids. Somewhere along the way, the wild blackberries and the wild black raspberries decided to “get together” if you know what I mean *nudge nudge, wink wink* and the result is a large sweet berry similar to a loganberry or boysenberry hybridization, but completely nature-made. I’m fascinated by these berries, and they produce (like the cultivars) terrifyingly huge, spiny canes that reach at least six feet into the air before arcing back to the ground – yes, that’s right… they are capable of producing canes more than twelve feet long! Unfortunately they are also a little bit wimpier about growing conditions, so if they aren’t able to get enough rain they tend to dry up pretty quickly. Still, when I stumble across a patch of them I tend to look over my shoulder to make sure nobody sees where they’re growing (Okay, I’m usually in the middle of the woods when I find them. It’s not likely that someone will follow me out there to steal my top-secret berry foraging locations, but you never know!)

On a typical berry-picking day I start with the wild black raspberries and wild blackberries first. They are smaller and have a stronger structure so I am able to pick them before the dew burns off. Once the dew evaporates I will launch into the cultivated raspberries, blackberries, wineberries, dewberries, boysenberries, loganberries and whatever strawberries remain, usually with an old water jug strung around my neck to toss berries into (did I mention I’m a berry fiend? I collect berry cultivars.). We’ll also go gooseberry picking a few times in early summer, and if you’ve never gone gooseberry picking I suggest you try it, with a very long sleeved shirt on. Those suckers have -literally- the most intense thorns I have ever had to handle. Last year I spent hours picking at a local u-pick farm and had to attend a family function afterward. I looked like I’d been mauled by a wild cat! It took some explaining, and I ruined my shirt with blood stains. Yes, they’re intense. I also have this silly habit of looking for that “perfect berry”, spotting it, and then grabbing for it in a sort of “Oooh! There it is! Get it! Get it!” little kid manner. That, my friends, is the perfect way to get skewered on a gooseberry bush.

So as the light brightens and I sit, avoiding my morning chores like the plague and cursing my ewes for holding off on lambing for so long, I have to smile at the thought of mornings to come full of purple stained fingers and sweet bursts of flavor across my tongue.

Do you pick your own berries? Are they foraged wild berries or cultivars? Which are your favorites?