Gooseberry Grandeur

“He could not imagine a homestead, he could not picture an idyllic nook, without gooseberries.” Anton Chekhov

This is not a food blog, but I must digress today to sing the praises of that humble fruit about which Chekhov clearly knew the score: ribes uva-crispa – gooseberries. Gooseberries may be the world’s most underappreciated and underutilized fruit, but they’ve always been a staple in our family life.

Gooseberries are more well-known in the UK, where gooseberry “fool,” a rich, sweet-tart pudding, is fairly common. As a Nebraska girl, I’d never heard of gooseberries until I met Ray. His mother knew the secret, and the berries had been part of her summer garden haul for decades. In fact, our original gooseberry bush came from her, and our gardens have never been without gooseberries since.

Gooseberries grow on extremely dense, head-high, very thorny bushes. Peacocks love gooseberries, too, so our bushes are in the corner of our garden, inside the fence. The berries are small, maybe ½-1 inch. They mature from firm, green and very tart to soft, blush-pink and semi-sweet. Most recipes call for green berries, and this is when most folks pick. The berries freeze well with no pre-fussing. They’re packed with Vitamin C and phytonutrients, and they’re a good source of fiber and potassium. You can buy canned gooseberries, but they’re expensive and not the same. I’ve never seen fresh gooseberries in a market or store, even though desserts and bevvies made with fresh green gooseberries might just be the perfect combo of sweet & sour. I’m drooling on the keyboard…

So apparently, last summer’s extreme drought, Ray’s irregular watering, and our total lack of pruning and weeding formed the perfect trifecta of gooseberry cultivation, because this summer, we had a bumper crop like nothing we’ve seen before. Ray did all the picking—an hour or two each evening for six evenings straight. He armed for battle: long sleeves, heavy jeans and boots, thick gloves, mosquito-netting hat, ice cream buckets (one has to pry one’s way into the thorny heart of the Thicket of Doom—the center of the bushes—to find the best berries). In spite of his armor, I would still hear occasional loud outbursts of profanity punctuating the summer calm, and I’d know he was pulling another thorn out of his hand.

While Ray picked, I made the really tough sacrifice: I suffered inside, in the air-conditioning, watching TV while I “topped & tailed” picked berries (each berry must have its stem and dried blossom removed by hand). It was meditative and excellent physical therapy, and thanks to DVR’d episodes of Mountain Man, I’m pretty sure I could field dress a squirrel now.

We ended up with about 30 quarts of berries in the freezer, and we swapped a gallon for a tray of fresh-picked strawberries. I’ll make our old standby’s: Ray’s mom’s gooseberry pie and gooseberry “pudding” (sticky cobbler). This year, I’ll also make some jam, and (best of all), I found several recipes for gooseberry wine—a light, lovely white wine. I’ll bet you can guess what everyone’s getting for Christmas this year…

Here are some classic gooseberry recipes:

Gooseberry Fool - http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2010/aug/15/nigel-slater-classic-gooseberry-fool-recipe

Gooseberry Pie - http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/531670/gooseberry-pie

Gooseberry Pudding - http://www.bakingmad.com/recipes/puddings-and-desserts/gooseberry-pudding