If ever there was a vegetable, uh, fruit, of mass destruction, it is the blackberry. It has several modes of attack.
First, the canes. Himalayan Blackberries grow not only like weeds, but as weeds. They grow anywhere birds perch, and therefore, poop. They can grow from seeds, from runners, or from chopped up bits of previous blackberry. And they grow fast. There are certain places on our farm where if I haven't been there for a week or two during the summer, I'd better bring the clippers; otherwise, I'll find an impenetrable bramble. They are an invasive and non-native species.
Then there are the thorns. Once you get in, you don't get out easily. And they have a bit of bite to them. They're not supposed to be poisonous but both DH and I experience a sting that goes beyond the simple skin penetration. Sometimes they start wrapping around you and snagging clothes in most dastardly fashion.
This is a picture of a house in my neighborhood allegedly last occupied by a little old lady, now covered on all four sides by a significant hedge of blackberries. I can only assume that it was abandoned before the blackberries engulfed it. From time to time someone comes and trims around the "No Trespassing" sign by the mailbox. I don't know who they think can get in there.
One of the places we looked at before we bought our farm was a flag lot with a long driveway. To get down the driveway meant beating through 100' of 4' tall blackberries. I couldn't believe my Realtor, who until then I had pegged as a city girl, didn't turn back. "This," I said, gesturing at the carnivorous (and key-eating) vegetation, "Suggests we won't have much competition."
Their ire seems directed solely at humans. Though they make hedges that go over my head and are impenetrable to light, the deer seem to come over/across/through with no difficulty. My horses think they're delicious, thorny bits and all. They grow on the fence lines and blessedly engulf the barbed wire. A blackberry mound is perfect bird habitat.
But, the berries.... ah, they are exquisite. Sweet, delicious, you can't go wrong. There are more than we can possibly pick, even inviting all our friends to come on by. We get them reliably, every year, regardless of the weather, the temperature, the precipitation. They need no attention from us to create a perfect crop, ripe for the eating. My one regret for Yearly Kos is that it was during prime blackberry season, which lasts only 4 weeks or so. I miss a week and I miss two batches of jam. I've made jam, syrup, cobbler, pie, cake, juice, and an incredible sorbet. If you could only get enough, I'm sure they'd make a fantastic wine. But, they are best right off the canes, warm from the sun.
Even then, berries removed, their destructive power is not finished. The glorous deep color is also a perfect dye. They have permanently marked at least a dozen items of clothing in our family; the only defenses are:
- clothes that will look better with some purple blotches
- Oxyclean, stat!
- wear purple.
And eternal vigilance if the child is outside near the blackberries in a brand new (non-purple) outfit.
There is something special about learning to harvest your own food. Learning what it tastes like as it matures was surprising to me. There is a remarkable amount of flavor change from unripe to underripe to ripe and to overripe. We're trained to pick our food in supermarkets with no ability to taste, using only our eyes and maybe our fingers. And so, to handle multiple days in transit and display, fruit has to be picked when it is underripe. Ripe fruit will be crushed by its brethren and has to be eaten nearly immediately. Even though it stil might taste good in the store, no consumer will select bruised and battered fruit. And so, for some fruits, we never learn what they really taste like unless we have access to them straight from the field. There is no candy sweeter or more delicious than a perfect blackberry or a perfect peach. It's just that candy travels better.
My favorite use for blackberries (besides eating them off the bush) is definitely jam. Jam will last until next season, it is great to give as gifts, and it is very simple to make.
Simple? you say. But, the instructions are so complicated, and there's all that stuff you have to have - special jars, weird tongs, ...
Let me tell you a little secret. You can make jam without canning it.
No! Really!
When you look at a jam recipe, it is daunting. Steps ABCD have to be done perfectly! You must be sterile! You must have the special jam tongs!
Fear not. You can't double jam recipes to can anyway, and your first batch will be SOOOO good that you will just want to put two jars in the refrigerator and eat them yourself (or give one to a local friend).
Jam is simple. All you need is:
- fruit, mashed
- water or fruit juice
- sugar
- pectin (and you can skip this if you want to be daring, for some specific kinds of fruits, particularly if you're not canning. It might not gel, but will still be a great sauce.)
You put the ingredients together. You bring them to a boil. And then you put them into jars. Since we're not preserving, you can use recycled non-mason jars, close them while still full of hot molten jam, let them cool, and then put them in the refrigerator. It really is that easy.
A single batch of the low sugar jam will make about 6 cups or so - two large jars or 6 small ones. (Add the volume of fruit to the volume of sugar, and you can guess the yield.)
I also add cinnamon and cloves, and I prefer the low/no sugar pectin from Ball, with about a cup and a half of sugar. Enough to bring out the flavor, but not oversweet. Standard recipes require more sugar than fruit, which just feels so wrong to me. You can make it without sugar at all if you use the Ball Low Sugar Pectin, but the flavor is flatter. (Some low sugar pectins still require sugar.)
One batch of jam - when it's this good - does not last all that long. It is great as an ice cream topping, in the classic peanut butter and jelly - or my favorite, jam and cream cheese on whole wheat toast. Mmmm. Tastes almost like a danish, but is simple and somewhat healthy.
Once you've done this a couple of times, you can always venture on to try the canned version. It's only a little harder. Think of it as doing your Christmas shopping in July (or August). Read the directions in your pectin box, but basically the instructions are to wash all the mason jars, boil them, ladle hot moltenjam in, put the lid on, then boil them again with the jam inside. The first time takes extra time and effort to figure out, but after that it is far easier. I suggest wide mouth jars, and the fancy tongs are kind of fun anyway.
So, if you're lucky enough to live somewhere near an area with abundant blackberries - or really, any other summer berry - they're worth hunting down. It's a great way to enjoy local produce long past peak season, and to support your local farms and farmers. If you can pick your own, it's a great way to spend an afternoon. They're delicious, and they're full of antioxidants and all kinds of good stuff. Just trade your orange clothes for purple before you approach them.