Secret Squirrel

Photo © Rob Jones

‘Look at all the riches of hedgerows that I have discovered,’ I say as I proudly open up a Waitrose bag full of blackberries. Only the best bags for blackberry picking. Looks impressive. Upmarket.

‘Oh that’s wonderful. Where did you pick them?’ comes the reply.

Then invariably I change the subject or come back with a vague reply. I am possessive about such infromation. Mainly because I have a sense of ownership. For weeks during my walks I have been monitoring the growth and slow fruition of blackberries, sloes, rose hips and damsons. I have been estimating their time to ripeness. You have to work out on the calendar the best day to pick them, before anyone else gets to them. It has to be before the weekend, when people have more time to saunter through the countryside picking the fruit.

And if your source is not commonly known, you have to keep quiet in case someone finds your storehouse of nature and gets to them first.

But to be honest there is plenty to go round. Last year, apart from the sloes, hedgerow fruits seemed to be a little thin on the ground. Not so this year. There is abundance. Boosted by the mini heatwave and then the torrential downpours. Super big sweet fruit.

And then the delicious task of deciding what gets made into gin, what becomes a crumble, or what is eaten fresh on your morning cereal.

Crumble is always a favourite. I stewed up some blackberries with some hunks of apple. Little bit of sugar and secret ingredient (a blob of jam). The topping was left-over flapjacks. Every time I go swimming at the gym, I buy a homemade flapjack, but only eat half. The result is a slowly increasing pile of half eaten flap jacks. The nice man in the cafe also sold off half a dozen for next to nothing because they were nearing their best before date. Result!

Anyhow … makes a lovely topping.

Serve hot with icecream or yoghourt.

RJ