Nourishments—

A Gift From The Wild

By Nancy K. Crevier

Sometimes nature bestows gifts on us that we wouldn’t even know to ask for.

My vegetable garden abuts a messy swathe of shrub dividing our property from our neighbor’s. It is a tangle of bittersweet that bullies wild rose bushes and hauls itself leaf over stem to the tops of the pines, and includes the errant blackberry bush, indestructible clumps of jewel weed, garlic mustard, yellow root, phlox, the occasional tall mullein, and lanky plantain. Enormous dandelions and violets grow low to the ground, and in amongst it all are a variety of grasses, each trying its best to throttle the next.

While discussing the merits of growing with my tomato plants one sunny morning, I glanced over the fence and noticed something new in the chaotic jumble. Bristly red stems stretching out above palm-sized triangular leaves were tipped with clusters of red hairy pods. They seemed to be developing on what I had taken to be wild blackberry bushes, but looking more closely, I could now see that the leaves were decidedly larger and not as saw-toothed as those of the blackberry.

The only thing I had ever seen that in any way resembled that pod was the hazelnut, and honestly, that is stretching way, way back into the recesses of my memory, when walking down a wooded path with my grandmother, she pointed them out. Could it be some sort of wild nut?

Thank goodness for Google, or I might still be thumbing through the Encyclopedia Britannica seeking an answer. I pulled up dozens of photographs after searching “shrubs with hairy red pods,” but within the first few images that came up, there they were: the wineberry.

According to the National Park Service website (nps.gov), wineberry is a vigorous invasive, native to Japan, Korea and China. First imported as breeding stock for Rubus varieties (blackberry and raspberry), it now grows in the wild along the East Coast from North Carolina to eastern Canada, and as far west as Michigan. It can, because of the thick shrubs it forms, choke out native plants.

On the other hand, it does provide shelter to birds, and tart, tasty berries.

Normally, I go on the warpath about the invasives on my property, but I am not disturbing these berry-laden bushes. Where they now grow, about the only other plants they would be thwarting are other, less desirable invasives. Plus, I have less than favorable luck cultivating berries. To have a plethora of flavorful berries a few steps away from my back door is a gift too good to turn away. In further rationalization, I have already ceded ownership of the wild blackberry bushes to the birds. The wineberries are mine.

By mid-July, the sticky, fuzzy pods were bursting open to reveal red berries, each made up of dozens of individual, seed laden drupelets. I popped one in my mouth. The flavor was like a tangy raspberry, with an almost citrus overtone. Seedier than a raspberry, I could see where some people might find this wild berry not as enjoyable as a tender red raspberry. I enjoyed the new flavor sensation, though, and what I found odd, was that unlike the raspberries and blackberries that grow in our woods, the birds seemed to ignore the ripened wineberry. I can only guess that the birds find the sticky pod unpleasant to deal with. It was no deal killer for me, though.

Because the wineberry can be substituted for any raspberry or blackberry recipe, I looked forward to experimenting with my new crop. Alas, temptation proved too great, and each day’s harvest disappeared before enough were gathered together to make any of the recipes.

This is the only year in the 17 years we have owned our property that I have ever seen wineberries growing there. I thank the winds — perhaps those of last August’s tropical storm — that blew the seeds to our property, and for the endless rains of May that seemed to make these shrubs grow heartily. Will they come back next year? I would be most pleased if they do. But even if, like the cicadas, these wineberry bushes are on a 17-year cycle, I will cherish this summer when nature shared this gift with us.

(Next year, I hope to practice restraint and collect enough berries at a time to try this recipe, from VegetableGardener.com contributor Barbara Belsinger.)

Wineberries and Blueberries in Lemon Basil Syrup

1½ cups water

1½ cups sugar

About 10 lemon basil sprigs or a large handful of lemon herb leaves, such as lemon verbena or lemon balm

Prepare the syrup first. To make an herb syrup, combine the water and sugar in a small saucepan, place over moderate heat and bring to a simmer, stirring until the sugar dissolves. Add the lemon basil, bruising the leaves against the side of the pan with a spoon. Cover, remove from heat and let stand for at least 30 minutes or until room temperature.

Remove the leaves and squeeze them into the syrup to extract their flavor. Pour into a clean bottle or jar and label. This syrup can be made ahead and kept in the refrigerator for about 10 days.

If you want to keep the syrup for a long period of time, pour it into a jar or bottle leaving at least an inch of headspace, place on the lid or cap, and label. Freeze them for up to one year. Remove from freezer the night before using and allow to thaw, or place the bottle in a bowl of warm (not hot) water to thaw more quickly. Use what you need and refreeze if desired.

2 generous cups wineberries

1 to 2 cups blueberries

About ½ to ¾ cup lemon basil syrup

Toss the berries in a bowl with the lemon syrup. Let stand for at least ½ hour or up to three. Serve with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, or yogurt.