Wild blueberries.

Lewisburg.

Blueberries grow in our backyard. Enough that we've picked twenty-one quarts thus far this year, with more ripening as I write this, though production has started to slow. It's more than enough to keep us in blueberry pancakes, cobblers, and so on for the next year.

And yet, it was hard to resist the urge to go get more. Wild blueberries.



Last year, I'd gone hiking deep in the woods, and had come across tiny, wild blueberries. Fields of them, in among the mountain laurel and rocky terrain. There aren't many ripe ones to be found, but they're delicious for a nibble as you walk by. And this spring, in conversation with friends, the idea came up. So, it became an evening activity.

I say "activity" because, like most foraging trips, it's all a crapshoot. Even when you know a fine wild patch of something - from berries to mushrooms to whatever else seems worth the effort - you always run the risk of returning home with an empty basket. You might have estimated the wrong date for ripe fruit. The birds, bears, and others might have cleaned it out first. It might simply be a poor year.

That said, we made out reasonably well, if you consider that we went for a hike, enjoyed a picnic dinner, and came home with some blueberries. A pint and a half's worth. Enough for baked goods - scones and pancakes and turnovers - but not so many that they needed preserving. With luck, I might even convince a few seeds to sprout into new plants, which'll help cut down on the mowable lawn surface.¹

And feed the birds, too, no doubt.

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¹I'm always on the prowl for this sort of thing.

Strawberry booze.

Lewisburg.

We've had many a strawberry this year. Last time I checked in, we'd picked sixty-two quarts out of the patch. The final count - as of two weeks ago - ran up to seventy-two. We could have picked more, but after traveling out of town for a few days, the appeal of picking through lots of overripe berries had faded. There were still a few to pluck for nibbling as we walked the dog past - much like our raspberry picking for this season - but at least we could consider it done.

Plus, we'd moved into blueberry season, and they're easier to pick.

With so many strawberries, we've managed to preserve them in just about every way that comes to mind, from drying to making jam and syrup to freezing. And infusing¹ into alcohol. Now we can enjoy the flavor of the fruit without the constant vigilance for spoiled berries.



On the left, with its brilliant ruby red, is the first² batch of strawberry liqueur. The other is a strawberry ratafia made with white wine, which is distinctly colored, but nowhere near to the degree that the liqueur is. Part of that is due to using a smaller quantity of berries for the amount of liquid, though I've no doubt other factors play into it. In both cases, the strained-out berries were pale pink, worse than any off-season California strawberry you've ever seen.

Both sets had also given up a fair bit of flavor to the liquid. The ones from the liqueur had also picked up a kick of booze. Nibble a bowl full of them, and you'll feel it.

The color is a good indicator of the strength of strawberry flavor, with the ratafia having a subtle but unmistakable strawberriness, and the liqueur being like liquid strawberry candy. Both are sweet, but the latter is very much so. Which, considering its alcohol content, isn't such a bad thing.

They're both easy to make, and I'm assuming that the ratio I've used for this will work well for other fruits, too. (It had better; I have blueberry and sour cherry versions pickling away as I write this.) So:

Ratafia
Take one bottle of wine - red, white, what have you - and put it in a quart jar with a quarter cup of vodka, a quarter cup of sugar, and a cup of something with flavor. Fruits are lovely, but so are herbs and vegetables, too. Don't underestimate the appeal of cucumber. Store in the refrigerator for three weeks. Strain, bottle, and drink before the flavor fades.

Liqueur
Per 100g of fruit, use 60g of sugar and 125mL of vodka. Place in a large glass jar, and store in a cool, dark place for four weeks. Turn and shake every so often to help the sugar dissolve. Strain and bottle. Pay particular attention to the changing color as the fruit's pigments dissolve into the alcohol.

Presumably other flavors - such as herbs - would make for lovely liqueurs. Unripe walnuts are a fine choice, too. Only time, experimentation, and excessive quantities of fresh foods will tell.

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¹As opposed to fermenting directly. I suppose that, if I'd planned for it, I could have juiced a good portion of our berries to make a strawberry wine, but I have to draw a line someplace.

²The second is due for straining and bottling tomorrow. They're essentially the same recipe.