This Side of the Pond

There’s a rite of passage in my homeland that involves sticky fingers, woodland hikes and a basket full of fruit. I was reminiscing on this last week when the husband came across blackberries for sale in our local supermarket. It was a little earlier in the season than I expected, but who’s complaining?

Traditionally speaking, you’re not actually meant to buy your blackberries, because finding them is half the experience. But why resist an opportunity to enjoy the juiciest, most colorful of treats?

In a few weeks, the children of Britain will begin their inspections of the local bramble groves, checking to see if the pale flowers have fulfilled their promise of transforming into plump fruits. There are few things as exciting as seeing the first of them darken, because that means it’s time to arm yourself with a wicker basket and head into the woods.

Apparently, though it can be found almost everywhere, the blackberry is more prized in western Europe than anywhere else in the world. We adore them as ingredients for jam, the basis of a cordial, an element of fruit cheese, the filling of a pie or to be drunk as a cordial.

We’ve been admiring them for a good deal of history: evidence in the stomachs of long-desiccated corpses suggests we’ve been foraging for blackberries for 8000 years. (Specifically, blackberry seeds were found in the stomach of a Neolithic man who was pried from his resting place in Essex.)

The blackberry bush is also known as the bramble, which comes from the old word for “prickly”. A good berry hunter knows how to avoid the thorns while threading your fingers through the branches and past the inevitable spider webs to reach the most deeply hidden fruit.

Much as with any day out to gather fruit, nobody expects the baskets to be completely full on the way home. If you finish the day without fingers and lips stained red and you still have vague interest in what’s for dinner, your parents are likely to grow suspicious.

One should also be aware that blackberry picking is a delight to be enjoyed early in the season. There’s a specific cut-off date in Britain: October 11, otherwise known as Olde Michaelmas Day.

This is because the Devil isn’t a fan of blackberry bushes (which is even more reason to revere them). It’s said he once fell into a thicket and was pricked by all the thorns; annoyed, he left a curse and returns each Michaelmas Day to spit on all the blackberry bushes.

This might be why the blackberry is known as the Blessed Bramble in the Scottish Highlands, and can be used in a wreath along with rowan and ivy to ward off evil spirits. It was also once believed to be a cure for pretty much everything – so powerful did our ancestors believe it to be that even the act of creeping under a bramble bush was thought to be a charm against everything from rheumatism to boils.

Ancient folk planted it around graves to prevent the dead from rising and pushed their kids through blackberry arches to cure them of rickets. If you happen to be worried about vampires, you can put also blackberries on your windowsill – the vampire will be forced to count them until morning.

A little more recently, in World War I, some bright spark came up with the idea of giving children time off school to collect blackberries from the hedgerows. These were used to produce juice that was sent to soldiers to promote good health. I imagine it was also an excellent way to distract young minds from the downsides of war and keep them occupied on the long, hot days of summer.

Now, while it’s true that a bowl of blackberries with a sprinkle of sugar and a dash of whipped cream is a wonder in itself, and there’s no better accompaniment for apple in a pie, there are so many ways to enjoy my favorite fruit. I thought I might share a few of Britain’s more traditional options.

To make a delicious drink that we’ve been enjoying in the motherland for centuries, bring 300 ml of water to the boil in a pan and add 2.2 lbs of blackberries. Cover the pan and boil for ten minutes, then mash the berries against the side of the pan. Strain the mixture and add 0.8 lbs of dark muscovado sugar. Bring back to the boil for a few minutes, then pour into bottles and chill.

As an alternative, blackberry and apple cordial can be made by placing 2 lbs of apples and 1 lb of blackberries in a pan and adding enough water to cover half the fruit. Simmer for around 15 minutes until the fruit is soft, then add the juice of a lemon and pour the cooked fruit into a muslin bag and allow it to drip into a bowl overnight.

Measure the juice as you return it to the pan and add 0.8 lbs of sugar for each 500 ml of juice. Heat gently, stirring occasionally, and make sure all the sugar dissolves before bringing it to the boil. Boil for 5 minutes, then pour into bottles. Dilute with iced water to serve.

Make blackberry jam sandwiches by layering 4 lbs of fruit and 3.3 lbs of sugar (with added pectin) in a large bowl, covering it and leaving it overnight at room temperature. In the morning, tip the berries into a wide pan, stir in the juice of a lemon and the pips inside a piece of muslin. Place over a low heat until the sugar dissolves, then boil for five minutes.

To test if it has reached setting point, chill a saucer in the freezer. Spoon a small amount of the jam onto it and push it with your finger when it cools – if it wrinkles, it’s ready. If not, boil in two minute stages and keep checking until the wrinkle happens. Leave the jam for 15 minutes to settle, then ladle into jars.

Create a chutney that goes wonderfully with cheese and crackers by combining 1 lbs of blackberries, 0.3 lbs of sugar, 0.3 lbs of sliced red onions, 3 tbsps of fresh ginger and 2 tbsps of Dijon mustard in a saucepan. Stir over a medium heat until the berries burst, season to taste and then add 150 ml of white wine vinegar. Simmer, uncovered, for ten minutes, then cool and store in a sealed jar.

For dessert, try a blackberry fool: place half a pound of blackberries in a pan with two tablespoons of confectioners’ sugar and the zest and juice of half a lemon. Simmer into a syrup, then chill. Whip 250 ml of cream with a tablespoon of confectioner’s sugar, swirl the blackberry sauce through it and serve in a glass with extra sauce and a handful of whole blackberries on top.

It may not be an option to go blackberry gathering in Wyoming, but I still intend to enjoy the fruits of someone else’s labor. After all, with a little effort, you can still make all the mess you’d like with your sticky, juice-covered fingers.