a case of mistaken identity…rowan berries
Story, styling, and watercolor by Lisa Golden Schroeder
Photography by Dennis Becker
I’ve dabbled in foraging for wild edibles for years. But mostly for berries and quickly identifiable greens that I stumble upon on our forays through the Northwoods. And going way back, I was convinced we had lots of pin cherries just outside our cabin window, inspiring me every year or two to consider making jelly. But keeping kids from falling off the dock always sidelined my best intentions.
This past summer I renewed my vigor in plucking brilliant crimson clusters along our dirt road. But my curiosity was piqued when my husband commented that some of the berries around the back of our cabin were more orange in color, in keeping with mountain ash trees. So I got serious consulting a field guide and a few online sources—carefully inspecting the trees, leaf configurations, and berry stem color. And found that I indeed had gathered mountain ash berries, not pin cherries (there IS one pin cherry bush on our property, so I feel a bit vindicated.) I also learned they aren’t considered choice in the world of wild fruit, but definitely had some interesting possibilities. Being stubborn, and very mad at myself for just missing out on a haul of gorgeous, fully ripe service berries and very early blueberries (I was caught flat-footed with nary a bag or basket), I was loath to waste the berries I’d just spent an hour picking. Leery of whether they were ripe enough to do anything with, I hoped that the unusual summer weather might work in my favor. Field guides said the berries usually ripen late summer, but spring began late with a lot of early rain, followed by unseasonably intense heat. By mid-July most of the wild berries in our area were ripening up, weeks ahead of what I’d typically expect.
As I poked around looking for more insights, the name “rowan” popped up more than once—a Celtic reference to Ireland and Scotland where there’s archeological evidence that the berries were gathered by Vikings who landed there as a safe haven during their years of marauding through Europe. The rowan tree was considered sacred in Celtic mythology, where it’s the Tree of Life, symbolizing courage, wisdom, and protection. Across the Atlantic, Native Americans often dried, then ground up the berries to add to stewed foods. Here in the U.S. there are two varieties of mountain ashes, the American and European. I’ve seen both in the Blue Ridge Mountains as well as northern Minnesota.
Mountain ash berries are generally not eaten fresh; their bitterness begs for the attention of an intrepid cook. In nature they do have a history of being cold-season food for birds, since the berries will continue to hang on the tree, snow dusted, long into winter. If they survive long enough, they may begin to ferment, sending birds like cedar waxwings into spiraling flights of intoxicated fancy.
One of my favorite sources for wild foods info, from someone whose kitchen skills I admire, is Chef Alan Bergo (www.foragerchef.com). He not only scours the forest and fields for well-known and more obscure edibles, he documents his kitchen play beautifully—down to tested recipes and photos. I was pretty sure that if anyone had done something with mountain ash berries worth eating (or drinking), he probably had. And sure enough, he confirmed that the berries are indeed quite astringent (easily confirmed by tasting one) but are interesting enough to transform into a marmalade, jelly, or bottles of homemade wine. I did see this in a British newspaper food section, but I’m not convinced it’s a good use of time—you can make wine from just about anything, but you may not want to drink it. I might consider making a sweet-tart syrup to flavor up sparkling water like a shrub. One suggestion Alan offers is to freeze the berries before using them, with the intent of replicating the effect of a first frost—which seems to boost the natural sweetness hidden in the tiny berries. So I spread my clusters out on wax paper-lined rimmed sheet pans, covered them well, and laid them in my chest freezer for a little hibernation.
An idea that intrigued me was to pickle them, in a sweetened vinegar brine spiked with whole toasted spices and a little fresh ginger. Alan traditionally water-baths his pickled berries for longer storage, but they can also be frozen. He suggests stirring them into sauces (think about a creamy sauce for Swedish meatballs) or serving them sprinkled into a salad with sweet beets, a rich cheese, and wild greens. I think they’re lovely served with roasted rich winter meats or wild game—or spooned into a cocktail (a Gibson martini or gimlet anyone?) in place of pickled onions…
PICKLED ROWAN BERRIES
Makes about 4 (1-pint) jars
SPICES
1 tablespoon yellow mustard seeds
8 coriander seeds
6 black peppercorns or ½ teaspoon grains of paradise
4 allspice berries
2 whole star anise
BERRIES
2 ½ cups water
1 ½ cups champagne vinegar
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 (1-inch) piece fresh gingerroot, thinly sliced
9 cups fresh or frozen ripe rowan (mountain ash) berries, stripped from their stems
Toast the dried spices in a dry skillet over medium heat until fragrant; cool. Pick over the berries, removing any that look old or shriveled. Rinse them well to remove any debris. Mix the water, vinegar, sugar, and ginger in a large kettle; bring to a slow boil and stir until the sugar is dissolved.
Add the berries and toasted spices, then turn off the heat. Using a slotted spoon, fill clean canning jars with the berries, pouring in the spiced brine so the berries are covered. They’ll keep in the fridge up to a month or stash them in the freezer for your next dinner party.
