I’m a foraging kind of person, though my experience of foraging is limited by many years of living in a city.
In the past, I’ve foraged for enough fungi to gladden a vegetarian’s heart and fill her plate with such colourfully named food as puffballs and Jews ears and lawyer’s wigs.
It was a near fatal experience, not due to anything I ate but because I ran down the steepest of inclines to reach some of the specimens, narrowly avoiding collision with a barbed wire fence at the bottom.
A year or so back I was all about the elderberry and collected enough to make a small jar of Pontack sauce. You’re supposed to mature it for 6 years or so, but it tastes sublime after a year or two.
I’ve foraged high and low for them – made apple and blackberry sponge, summer pudding, blackberry vodka and blackberry whiskey.
And after all that and giving some away, I still have a pot left over.
So here I am, preparing apples, because what else goes better with blackberries. This potful will be stewed with the apples (“foraged” from the unloved garden of an abandoned house) and portioned up ready for some winter’s evening when I’m ready to be reminded of the tastes of late summer. There’s only one thing left to be decided and that’s pie, sponge or crumble.
And you really should check out Richard Mabey’s amazing book Food for Free, but if you do go foraging and hit any barbed wire fences, don’t blame me.