Ripe Elderberries

The elderberries are ripe for the picking.  As the berries grow darker and fatter, the clusters droop closer to the ground.


These dark purple, almost black, elderberries are really interesting.  Up until a couple of months ago, I didn't know much about them.  From what I've read, all parts of the plant are to a certain extent toxic, even the seeds.  As a result, eating too many of the berries raw can give you an upset stomach.  I don't think there is much risk of that for me because they taste awful raw as far as I'm concerned. 

Many people believe that elderberries hold certain health benefits.  One of our neighbors juices them and claims that they help to relieve constipation.  Another neighbor, who dries and then grinds them into a powder, believes that they work to boost one's immune system.  I'm more interested in them for a more traditional purpose - winemaking.  Apparently, people have been making elderberry wine for centuries.  I can see why as there is a wildness about them that becomes tamed during the winemaking process. 


The clusters are fairly easy to strip - almost like stripping currants.  I have two one gallon recipes - one calling for 3 lbs of ripe berries and another calling for 10 lbs.  I'm assuming the latter will result in a richer more full-bodied wine.  So far, we've picked around 5 lbs and when all is said and done, we'll have enough to make wine and a batch or two of jam.

Picking Wild Black Raspberries

Towards the back of our development, the side facing Centennial Woods, I came across a patch of wild black raspberries the other day.  Admittedly, I had to do some googling before I figured out exactly what they were.  They're tiny compared to cultivated raspberries but have a wonderful flavor.  And unlike the raspberries you grow in your own garden, these were bit of a pain to pick.  This particular patch was growing on the side of a downward slope so I had be extra careful when picking.  Falling head first into a thick patch of thorny brambles would ruin anyone's day.


As you can see, the berries start out red, turn purple and then ripen black.


Luckily, I was able to find several patches that were not so treacherous, though I also made the mistake of not dressing in appropriate attire when I picked my first batch.  Like most wild edibles, these tend to grow amidst tall weeds and brush, which are a haven for plants and bugs that make you itch.  Luckily, it was just the bugs that first time and now I make sure to wear pants whenever I go searching for them. 


Juneberries a week ago, wild raspberries now and blackberries next month - who knew you could have this much free fruit living within city limits?  At this point, I've been able to pick almost two pounds of these berries.  (They are tiny and way next to nothing!)  Combined with some of our cultivated red raspberries, I now have enough to make a batch of (mostly) wild black raspberry wine. 

Eldeberries in Full Bloom

We have two enormous elderberry bushes next to our unit and they are in full bloom at the moment.  The tiny flowers smell amazing.


And they're very interesting up close.  I've never tasted an elderberry before.  I wonder if they would make for a good wine.

Home Winemaking - Juneberry (Saskatoon, Serviceberry) Wine

When Borders bookstore went out of business last year, I made several trips during the last few weeks of its life to raid the gardening and cooking sections. When all was said and done, I ended up with a large stack of books, and Terry Garey's "The Joy of Home Winemaking" was one of them.

I've been wanting to learn the craft of home winemaking for a while now. I think it all started when I watched the movie Anne of Green Gables on PBS (I think I was about 10 years old at the time) and was intrigued when a young Diana Barry, with a little help from Anne, got drunk off of Miss. Cuthbert's homemade red currant wine.  Fast forward twenty years later, I bought my first bottle of red currant wine from a local farm while we were living in Massachusetts, and well... let's just say I wasn't exactly smitten with the stuff.  The flavor of the wine was fine enough, but it was awfully sweet.  I began to think that most commercial fruit wines were produced this way and unfortunately for me, I prefer my wines on the drier end of the spectrum. 

Anyway, not too long ago, it dawned on me that all of our currant shrubs (courtesy of our landlord) might produce enough fruit this year to kick start this new endeavor of mine.  If the birds stay away, I think we'll have enough red, white and black currants to make several gallons of wine.  Like most hobbies (gardening being one of them), I'm expecting a steep learning curve in the beginning and lots of terrible wine along the way.  But I've always believed that it's partly the mistakes that make learning a new craft all the more interesting and exciting.


I was expecting that my first wine would be made from currants, but thanks to our kind neighbor who introduced me to them, it will be made from most of the juneberries I picked this past weekend.  It seems somehow more fitting that my first attempt at making wine would involve a wild edible fruit.  I'm sure this was how it was done centuries ago before the first European wine grapes were ever cultivated.  And it just so happens that I found a recipe (or should I say 'guide') for making juneberry wine online.  (Jack Keller maintains a rather impressive site containing tons of recipes and advice for winemaking novices.)


Last Saturday, we made a trip to the Vermont Homebrew Store to set some supplies (a convenient 5 minute drive from our place).  I spent about $75 but I'm sure you could get started on much less depending on what you already have lying around the house. (Jack Keller has a great list of basic supplies you would need in order to get started.) In fact, one of our neighbors kindly gave me a one gallon glass apple juice jug to use during the secondary fermentation stage of this project.  (I don't think I'll make any batches larger than a gallon until I get the hang of this as one gallon of awful wine down the drain is not as heartbreaking as say three or five.)  I've also sent word to a few of our friends to save their empty wine bottles.

I won't go into detail about what I've learned so far about the basics of home winemaking as I am in no position to be giving any sort advise on this subject at this point of the game, but I thought I'd at least describe what I did, along with my observations, here more for my own sake than anything else (in the event this wine actually turns out well).  In any case, I woke up early on Sunday to get things started.  I ended up using the ingredients listed in Jack Keller's third recipe but referred to some of the advice given in Terry Garey's book when putting it together.


I started out by mashing 3 lbs of juneberries in a large pot and brought it to a boil along with 6 cups of water and the juice of 2 lemons.  After it simmered for about 10 minutes, I poured it into a  nylon jelly bag that I'd placed inside my primary fermenter.  Then I brought another 8 cups of water to a boil, into which I dissolved 2 1/2 lbs of sugar, and poured this into my primary as well.  Into this mix I added 1 lb of minced raisins in a second jelly bag.  I then covered the bucket and allowed it to cool down for a couple of hours.  When the mixture (or 'must') was lukewarm, I stirred in 1 teaspoon of yeast nutrient and 1 crushed Campden tablet, which I'd dissolved in a small amount of the must first. (I did notice that the color of the must lightened a bit when I added the tablet, but it still retained much of its ruby red color.)  Then the top went back on but this time fitted with an airlock. 

At this point, there was a strong yet lovely scent of almonds or amaretto to the must, which I'm sure was imparted by the seeds.  The smell subsided after it sat for a while and I was afraid that the addition of the raisins would overpower the flavor of the juneberries.  I guess I'll find out eventually.


Twelve hours after I added the Campden tablet, I stirred in 1 teaspoon of pectic enzyme and recovered (late Sunday night). Twelve hours later, I sprinkled a packet of Champagne yeast over the surface of the must and recovered again.  Within a few hours, I could tell that fermentation was starting as the airlock started to release gas.

Marc has been given the task of giving the must a gentle stir once a day while I'm away.  After 5 days, the nylon bag containing the juneberries will be removed and the must will be allowed to ferment for another 5 days before the raisins are removed and the must is siphoned to the secondary fermentation vessel if all goes well.  I'll be sure to provide updates as we go along. 

(In case you're interested, here is a glossary of basic winemaking terms.)

Wild Edibles - Juneberries! (Saskatoons, Serviceberries)

The other morning, I ran into a neighbor of ours holding a pot of purplish blue berries she'd just picked from several tall bushes planted throughout our development.  At that moment, I was introduced to the world of juneberries, also known as saskatoons and serviceberries. I'd read about them before but never knew enough to recognize them in the world.  When she had me try one, I was really surprised by how very sweet and tasty they were.  The flower ends are a bit though and the seeds are more pronounced than say blueberry seeds, but I can imagine they would make a wonderful jam if strained and with a bit of acid added into the mix.  Interesting thing about the seeds - if you bite into them, you get this little burst of almond flavor. 


Juneberries start out red but ripen into a purplish blue.  I was surprised to find that most of the bushes had been left unpicked and that many of the berries had shriveled up under the recent heatwave.  Despite this, Jonathan and I (well, mostly me) picked about 4 lbs of decent-looking berries, some of which I'll turn into a dessert for one of our community dinners and the rest...well you'll find out tomorrow. 


The interesting thing about wild edibles (by this, I mean plants you normally wouldn't find in the supermarket or even at the farmers markets) is that once you are formally introduced to them and experience their goodness, they usually stay with your for the rest of your life.  This time next year, I can imagine Jonathan recognizing juneberries whenever and wherever they appear during our outings. 

Rugosa Rose

We have two beautiful and very fragrant white rugosa rose bushes outside of our townhouse.  There are a few nice pink ones around the development as well.  Once the flowers have faded, I think I'll try taking some green wood cuttings.  I might be mistaken but I think they root pretty readily.  The difficult thing will be handling the stems, which are absolutely covered with pin like thorns.  Tongs will surely come in handy.

I'm also looking forward to harvesting some rose hips this fall.  Rugosa roses (a member of the apple family) produce large edible hips.  Last year my former next door neighbor brought back from Poland some tasty cookies filled with rose hip jam.  I'm looking forward to making some of my own this year.