Toppin' and Tailin' Time

It's toppin' and tailin' time! If you are a gooseberry jam aficionado as I am, you'd be willing to put in the effort to top-and-tail, i.e., cut off the stem and blossom ends of each individual berry, which is necessary before they can be turned into jam. I pick, top-and-tail, cut each berry in two, and then freeze them in jam-sized batches so I can do the cooking during cooler fall weather. It took me 45 minutes to top-and-tail the three cups of berries from this morning's harvest..first of the year, with lots more to come. My bushes are absolutely loaded this year! I let a few of these get a little too ripe so they were hard to cut in two without squishing, but another batch this size will be ready to pick either tomorrow or the next day. I love my gooseberry jam!

Gooseberry Bonanza

Take a gander at my goose...berries! I think this is going to be a record harvest! And a good thing, because not only is gooseberry jam my personal favourite, I've addicted my weaving partner to it. But he should be having his own gooseberries to harvest in a few years. I soil-layered a couple of starts for him last fall. Although you can't see the spines in this photo, picking gooseberries is hazardous and must be done with great care. And then there's the matter of topping-and-tailing each individual berry (i.e., cutting off the flower end and the stem) before you can make jam. There are no shortcuts, believe me! I harvest them as they ripen (a subjective matter, that...I pick when they first start to "give" a little when squeezed), and after I've topped-and-tailed them, I cut each one in two and freeze them. Then when the cooler fall weather sets in, I make jam.

In other garden news, I will also have a record crop of figs if all goes well. They're as big as the end of my thumb now, and there must be at least 40 on a six-foot tall tree. The kiwi vines are setting flowers, and I'm hoping the weather doesn't get too hot or too cold before they set fruit. On the other hand, I was terribly disappointed that my purple akebia did not produce a single female flower this year, so there will be no fruit there. The male purple flowers do not pollinate the white females.

Consult the Strawberry Book

Day 61: I got a very early start with horticulture when at age two, I was introduced to the "Strawberry Book" by my dad. It became known in the family as such because one time when no one was looking, I took a crayon to the line drawing of a strawberry (my favourite of the illustrations). I was firmly chastised for the error of my ways, and thereafter was only allowed to peruse the Strawberry Book with supervision. The book passed to me when I reached adulthood, and despite its dated nature, has still proved to be a valuable resource for my horticultural experiments. Some things never change, like the fact that gooseberries can be propagated by soil layering (purportedly "easily," although that remains to be demonstrated). It was to the Strawberry Book that I returned when my weaving partner Ed bought property and wanted to begin putting in a garden. He so loves my gooseberry jam that he asked me for starts from my plants. After the twigs had lost their leaves, I scraped off the harder outer tissue to expose the cambium layer, treated the wounds with rooting hormone, staked the twigs down and covered them with soil, essentially the same method I used to propagate from my contorted filbert. Gooseberries certainly won't be as challenging as that was!

Gooseberry Season

Day 269: Cherries weren't the only thing on my picking agenda day before yesterday. The gooseberries are ripening! Now let me tell you: picking gooseberries is a dangerous endeavour. The bushes are very thorny, especially on the older canes. I'd pruned out a lot of the old canes last year which made it a little easier, but it also meant I'd probably only get enough gooseberries for one batch of jam. Indeed, that's what has occurred, but the trade-off for one year is worth it to save some of my skin. Gooseberries are also a bit of a pain to process for turning into jam. Each berry has to be topped (the stem end cut off) and tailed (the blossom end removed). I prefer to cut each one in half before putting them in a container to freeze. That way, they're ready to go when cooler weather arrives and I feel like making jam. Oh, I could make jelly from them as well,, thereby saving the work of topping and tailing, but I love having bits of gooseberry in my toast spread. Why go to all this work when I could make some other kind of jam? Because gooseberry jam is my absolute most favourite! A little tart, a little sweet...perfect on homemade sourdough bread.

Topped And Tailed

Day 274: As sick as I've been (still am, on some levels), the gooseberries very nearly got away from me this year. This morning, I forced myself out into the garden with a 4-cup Tupperware bowl which, by the time I was done picking, was brim-full. To put this into perspective, I would normally have picked four or five times, a cup at a time so that the topping-and-tailing part of the procedure only took fifteen minutes per collection. As it was, it took me over an hour to top-and-tail this batch, and there are at least that many more on the bushes to harvest over the next several days. Yes, topping-and-tailing (removing the stem and blossom ends) is a lot of work, and it's arguably one of the main reasons most people don't bother with growing gooseberries (vicious thorns being another), but for those of us who love gooseberry jam, it's worth both the effort and braving the hazards. These now go into the freezer where they'll stay until cooler weather for processing.

Great Galloping Gooseberries!

Day 264: The gooseberries have just begun to ripen, and with hot weather coming up for the next several days, they'll be kicked into high gear. Don't ask me why, but the bushes have very few leaves this year, and are absolutely packed with berries along every densely spiny stem. I might even get enough for two batches of my favourite jam. Mind you, gooseberries aren't something you're inclined to eat straight off the plant. Even after the sugars have fully developed, they're a bit too puckery for most palates. Occasionally, I'll eat one of the ripest while I'm picking them, but they do tend to put your back teeth on edge. As a jam, however, they are a delightful balance of sweet-tart, making them well worth the hazardous task of harvesting them. Some folks wear welder's gloves to protect their hands, but walking between close-packed bushes, you may sustain damage to other portions of your anatomy not so well shielded. Gooseberry cultivation is not for the faint of heart!

Gooseberry Flower

Day 199: Well, if you've ever backed into a gooseberry bush, you'll understand what I mean when I say that they're good at spurring you into action. However, in this case, it wasn't prickles but blossoms which got me into high gear; that, and some already developing fruit which reminded me that I still had last year's crop in the freezer, waiting to be turned into jam. I had enough for a single batch (seven half-pints), gooseberry jam being one of my favourites, and enough left over for a small pie. My bushes aren't large, and I keep them pruned back for ease of harvesting the fruit. Older canes are easy to identify by the sheer number of thorns they bear, and since the plant fruits best on 2-3 year old canes, the older ones should be cut out at the end of each growing season. Unless we have some kind of weather extreme (hot or cold), it looks like this year's crop will be good.

Celebrate Gooseberries!

Day 264: The first picking of the season! Admittedly, it was only a cup once they were topped, tailed and cut in two, but the first fruits for a batch of my favourite jam are in the freezer. I don't think I'll have enough for a double batch this time around, but there are still a couple of jars left from last year. I'm surprised more people don't grow gooseberries. I suppose it's because prepping them for pie or jam is a lot of work. "Topping and tailing" means slicing off both the stem end and the blossom end with a sharp knife, a rather tedious process when you have a large number of berries. Done a few at a time (two cups at most) and on a daily basis as the fruit ripens, it's not such a bad chore. The berries can be kept frozen and processed during cooler weather, a boon for those of us who don't care to slave over a hot stove when it's 90 degrees out. The jam is tart-sweet, tangy and flavourful, and utterly delicious on homemade sourdough bread, but mind the thorns when you're harvesting. Many people wear welder's gloves when picking gooseberries, but I find that a little care and caution is all you really need. The birds will pick them if you allow them to ripen fully, so get them when they first begin to "give" when pinched gently.

Gooseberry Season

Day 232: Here they come! And unless we get a prolonged hot spell which causes them to drop from the bushes, I should have another bumper crop of gooseberries to turn into jam. I like to pick them when they first begin to show some "give" when squeezed. That's the "Goldilocks point" for gooseberries: the perfect balance between tart and sweet...not that a gooseberry can ever be called "sweet," but as soon as they develop the characteristic brown blush which indicates their full ripeness, the birds begin harvesting them. I don't mind sharing as long as I've put enough back for a batch of jam. And how those little stinkers get around the thorns is beyond me. I don't go as far as putting on welder's gloves to pick them like some growers do, but harvesting gooseberries should come with hazard pay. Is it worth it? You bet! Gooseberry jam is one of my favourite spreads for breakfast toast.

The Berry Pen

Day 206: Last year's garden was close to a total failure due to a late cold snap which was followed almost immediately by a very hot, dry spell. The only real success story was in my gooseberry crop which yielded up enough for two full batches of jam. The currants (left) were hit by disease and had to be pruned radically to remove infected branches, and consequently bore not a single berry to add colour to the mix. On the other hand, the gooseberries (right) produced a record number of fruits, to the point that at the very end of the season, I left a few on the bushes for the birds to enjoy. The Berry Pen is in full flower now, and if the weather cooperates, I should get fruit from both this year.

Topping And Tailing

Day 287: We're going to take a left turn from botany today to explain the process of "topping and tailing," a task which will be familiar to anyone who has cultivated gooseberries for use in jam. Or perhaps we should back up even further to explain the gooseberry itself. I'm willing to bet that a sizeable portion of the younger generation would say, "Gooseberries? What are those?" Hardly anyone grows them these days because their thorny defense system makes them hard to pick, and the aforementioned "topping and tailing" is time-consuming and rather tedious when one has any quantity to process. An underripe gooseberry will pucker your mouth in a way lemons can only dream of achieving. A ripe gooseberry is still tart, but at the same time, it holds a certain sweetness which suggests the possibility of culinary use. Some varieties make green berries, others red or brown, but most cultivars produce a fruit from half an inch to an inch in diameter, and do so in abundance. Did I mention thorns? Even when those luscious berries are dangling in easy sight, the gooseberry bush doesn't want you removing them. The thorns are longer than the berries, and cover the older canes as thick as the proverbial hair on a dog. Puncture-proof elbow-length gloves are strongly advised for neophyte gooseberry pickers. Those of us who have grown up with gooseberries have sufficient experience with their collecting to know to move slowly and carefully, but are nevertheless resigned to getting spiked. Let's say you've survived the harvesting experience more or less intact. Now you need to process the fruit to turn into one of the most delicious jams I know. Each berry, however large or small, will require that the stem end (top) and blossom end (tail) will need removing. This is done with the sharpest knife in your kitchen because the skins resist cutting, although they'll soften when cooked. Once I've topped and tailed my harvest, I like to cut each berry in half before freezing. The fruit keeps well in the freezer without the addition of sugar, so you can accumulate gooseberries as they ripen and then make jam when cooler days arrive in late autumn. I may actually have enough this year to make two batches!

Jam On The Hoof

Day 197: If we can get through June without being pounded by a heat wave, I should have a bumper crop of gooseberries (left), more than in any year in the past. The red currants (right) are another story. I had to perform a radical pruning last year to try to eliminate an insect pest which I believe was introduced to my garden by nursery stock, so they are not bearing as heavily. Currants bear best on second- or third-year wood, and I had to eliminate many of those canes. In any event, I really only use the currants to fill out my gooseberry jam recipe, and from the census of gooseberry flowers, I shouldn't need any currant juice at all this year. Last year's crop has seen me through the winter, plus "wiggle room" for thickly spread toast. Both tart and sweet simultaneously, gooseberry jam is my hands-down favourite above any other fruit or berry preserve.

Bush Fruits

Day 207: Last year, I did a lot of reading on the subject before taking the pruning shears to my currants (left) and gooseberries (right). Each requires a different method to produce the best crops. Apparently I did the job correctly, becaue both are loaded with flowers and, as you can see, some of the ovaries (the fruit) are already swelling. Currants bear most heavily on 2-3 year old wood, less on older stems. Old wood must be pruned out and half a dozen new non-bearing shoots should be preserved to bear the following year. Gooseberry stems, on the other hand, may be allowed to bear for three years before pruning out the old wood. New shoots should be thinned to 2-4 to maintain the bearing cycle. If you have trouble distinguishing the ages of the stems, you can code each year's growth with coloured surveyor's tape. Keep good records, and enjoy an abundance of "bush fruits" as jam and jelly.

Taste The Jam

Day 148: Once the flu-like side effects of the Moderna vaccine had worn off, I began to feel invigorated, just as I had done after the first dose. Perhaps "invigorated" isn't the right word; more like I'd eaten an entire eight-ounce bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans. Yesterday, I hit the yard, and I hit it hard. I cleared out the Barren Wasteland, preparatory to replanting it with cosmos, marigolds and alyssum and then, after a fifteen minute sit-down, I launched into weeding both the front and side flower beds (a job for which I usually allow 3-4 days). The "perky" phase is still full-blown today. I transplanted half a dozen volunteer yews, added soil amendments and fresh soil to the blueberry, gooseberry, currant and tomato containers, fussed and fiddled with a number of other small projects. While on my knees in the Berry Pen, I noticed that the gooseberries were beginning to put on their first leaves; I think I have one jar of jam left from last year's crop. Spring can't get here fast enough for me! I have a pair (male and female) Hardy Kiwi Anna vines on order, in the hopes that the male will also fertilized the purportedly-but-not "self-fertile" Issais which frame the Berry Pen gate, as well as a few packets of flower seeds. But maybe I'm a little premature. Yesterday, I was pelted with small hail while I was working. Today, it was snowing. Still, it felt good to get down-and-dirty in the garden.

Worth Every Prickle

Day 362: Gooseberries are not commonly seen in stores these days, nor at roadside stands. Few people grow them even for home use in pies or as jam. Given my fondness for gooseberry jam, it's hard for me to imagine that a few prickles would be a major deterrent, but on the other hand, they require a lot of meticulous preparation before they're serviceable. In the jargon of gooseberry cultivation, the process is known as "topping and tailing." Using a sharp knife, both the stem and blossom ends must be trimmed from each berry individually, a time-consuming but not altogether unpleasant task if you occupy yourself with thinking of the tart/sweet taste of the jam on a future muffin. Their general unavailability led me to plant a couple of bushes several years ago, but they did not do well in the location I chose. I decided to try Alternate Plan B: purchase new ones and bed them in huge flower pots in the Berry Pen where my blueberries flourish. Then, in an attempt to make the best of a bad deal, I also moved the old plants to the Berry Pen. The relocation and new plantings were successful and I harvested a pound and a half of tangy gooseberries this last summer. Concurrently, I planted two red-currant bushes and got enough fruit this year to make a quarter-cup of juice which I added to the gooseberries, turning the whole lot into six half-pints of one of my favourite bread-spreads. That said, potential gooseberry farmers should be aware that the plants are armed and dangerous, but to my way of thinking, worth every prickle for the yield.

Collecting Currants

Day 275: With COVID numbers remaining high and the stupidity rate climbing, I am finding it increasingly difficult to urge myself out on walks. I have had three near-misses while less than half a mile from home, two when a driver passing another car came across the fog line on the opposite side of the road where I was walking, facing traffic. The number of vehicles heading toward the Park would appear to be at or above the last several years' "increased visitation" rate, and while I don't want to die of COVID or a coronary, neither do I want to be taken out by an impatient driver. Consequently, I am also having a hard time finding material my readers will find interesting, so today's offering is currant news. With an A.

They're nearly done now, my two small bushes, but they have given me roughly a cup of delicious Red Lake currants. The stems which bore fruit have been marked with flagging tape so that I know to prune them out. Red currants bear best on second-year wood. Third-year wood will produce fewer berries. On the other hand, gooseberries can be asked to produce for three years on any given stem before it needs to be taken out of service, and boy, do I have gooseberries coming on! I've already picked close to a cupful, and that was just for starters. The two fruits (currants and goozleberries) are being stored temporarily in my freezer until I have gleaned the full crop. From there, it's into the jam pot for a small, but utterly delicious specialty batch.

Jamming these two fruits is a bit of a bother, but gooseberry/currant fans will tell you it's worth it. Currants alone are best turned into jelly, straining the cooked fruit through muslin to remove the dried flower ends and stems. Gooseberries will require being "topped and tailed," as the saying goes, i.e., both the stem end and the blossom end will need to be cut off with a sharp knife. Fortunately, this tart fruit doesn't ripen all at once. Topping and tailing seems much less of a chore when done a cup at a time. Berries can be frozen without adding sugar or liquid to hold until you're ready to make jam. I'm looking forward to having a couple of half-pints, but don't expect me to share!

Berry Bonanza

Day 262: Originally when I removed the sod from 25 sq. ft. of yard, sunk three big flowerpots in the soil up to their waists and fenced the area off to keep it safe from browsing deer and elk, I dubbed it the "Blueberry Pen" for the three bushes planted in its confines. One thing led to another, as things are wont to do; a pot for tomatoes was included, an extension was added and the fence restrung to accommodate an old, unhappy gooseberry (also in a large pot), and then in a major makeover, my botany partner spent an entire day busting sod while I hauled it away, enlarging the Pen to roughly 400 sq. ft. The new space was destined to hold Red Lake currants, additional gooseberry plants (I love gooseberry jam), a few special-case raspberries (separate from the main Heritage everbearing raspberry cage), a mulberry bush ("here we go 'round...") and yes, a pair of tomatoes, cherry and beefsteak. The entrance to the Berry Pen (renamed) has been defined by an arched trellis now bearing two vigorous hardy kiwi vines, and a potato start is bedded under straw in an open spot, its leaves reaching for the sunlight as it develops more tubers. It's a lot of garden in a small space, a little prickly to walk through for anyone not understanding that gooseberries bite back; an intense garden, now intensely focused on filling my freezer with my favourite fruits. The gooseberries are just starting to blush, the currants are reddening, and the blueberries are nearly as thick as leaves on the stems of their bushes, a veritable bonanza of berries waiting to be jammed and muffinized.

The Bloomin' Garden

Day 177: It seems like every day now, something new opens up in my bloomin' garden. The latest flush includes Snowflakes (Leucojum, not to be confused with Snowdrops which are much shorter and bloom earlier), Checkered/Fritillary Lilies (Fritillaria) and ... now wait a minute! It's been twenty-five years since I planted hyacinths and wrote them off as a bad idea when the mole undermined all of them. How is it, then, that I have one sickly-looking Hyacinth in the front flower bed? I know that some species of plants (notably Phantom Orchids) can remain dormant for decades, but it's not a trait I associate with cultivated varieties. Still, I'll take what I get. I'll mark it and lift it in the fall to give it a better chance of survival.

That said, today's project is to locate some Pixwell gooseberry plants for the Currant Extention. I salvaged one of my old ones, but it wants company. While the berry garden doesn't add much colour to the yard, jams, jellies and frozen fruit sure make winter easier to bear.