Preserving Tradition
I picked the first of the Elderberries last week, it seemed strange to me that they were already dripping off the branches and it was barely September, even picking them in the hot sun confused my senses as the retreat into autumn was momentarily halted by this late heat wave. Easkey waited patiently beside me, grabbing blackberries and shoving fistfuls into her mouth, whilst I tried to step carefully through the nettles and brambles to reach the juiciest purple-black jewels off the Elder trees. Having stung myself several times, I turned quickly to exit the thicket and making itself known a brutish stalk of bramble lodged itself in my calf, the barbed thorns tugging at my skin. Stung, covered in purple juice blotches and with bloodied feet and legs I dropped Easkey off at Nursery, muttering excuses to the teacher for our appearance, the way I do…half embarrassed, half not really caring. Delighted and in a hurry to get this treasure home.
I lifted Granny’s copper preserving pan off the high shelf, for the first time ever I had remembered to buy some Brasso* to give it a proper clean (I didn’t exactly remember, I was looking for something else and the Brasso just happened to be beside it.) I laid some paper out on the kitchen table and got a few old cloths and began to clean the pan. Immediately the memory of Granny sitting at her own kitchen table came to mind, immaculate posture always and in her cosy cashmere. The tabletop covered in newspaper with a collection of brass, copper and silver items, wearing her little white cloth gloves to protect her hands from the harsh chemicals in the can. She was meticulous, there was a system of sorts and some of these beautiful items would be cleaned and then go back into drawers or cupboards only coming out again for their next polish. Sometimes I’d watch her, sometimes I’d help, loving the gratifying sheen, a visible sense of achievement.
I polish the pan now with the same vigour; delighted at the way ‘it comes up’ like new. Copper is a great pot for making jams and preserves; it’s a good conductor of heat, giving even heat distribution and the pan is narrower across the base than at the top to encourage evaporation during cooking. This is not the reason that I love it, its practicality is far overshadowed by its nostalgia, its heartstring pull, the tradition, the connection. I love lifting the brass handles that Granny used to hold and use to turn the pan, I love the shine as it sits on the hob just as it did on hers and every time I cook with it now my eyes fill with tears at those beautiful memories of us baking together, being together. Standing over the stove, the house filling with the smell of jam, marmalade or festive mincemeat, something about it slower, simpler, easier? Even as I type I can hear her voice in the kitchen, radio a bit loud sometimes, she’d be proud that I finally cleaned the pan, I think.
Back to the haul…I fill the sink with cold water and tip out the berries, washing them gently by swirling the water around them, giving it a pink tinge. Using the tines of a fork I pull the berries off the stems and into the pan, ready for heating. The motions of the method reminding me of mum picking and preparing these berries every year, a cupboard full of her magic potion for when we felt poorly; she made it with hot water and a lemon slice studded with cloves, she’d bring it into us and pull a woolen blanket around us as we sat snug on the sofa by the fire together. Laterally she’d add little whiskey and I’d sleep soundly. It felt like real medicine, a cure…though the loving care may play an important role too. My own children ask for mummy’s medicine daily now since I’ve made this year’s batch.
Elderberries have been used as a medicinal plant for hundreds of years; the berries and flowers of elderberry are packed with antioxidants and vitamins that may boost your immune system. They could help tame inflammation, lessen stress, and help protect your heart, too. Elderberries have been used in this way since at least Tudor times as a stand by against winter colds, they can relieve chest troubles and will apparently stop a cold and bring on a sweat. Our environmental health officer told us we couldn’t advertise these false claims when she noticed the Elderberry syrup on our menu described as the ‘cold and flu ass kicker’! I laughed when she told me that; I considered the language playful and the facts of elderberry well known, describing it simply as a warm drink felt like a demotion of this powerful plant. It seems in blatant contradiction to the unfair claims made by the large corporations of the food industry and how our ignorance and trust makes us naive and open to the lousy advertising, taking advantage of us. We are so disconnected, I lament it every day it seems.
My calendar year is marked with the nuances of the seasons, the countryside bounty, mother nature’s gifts to us. Being aware of these little changes helps us to connect more, not just season to season but week to week. Last week it was the horse chestnut leaves, this week I’ve seen the Rowan turning and plump plums and sloes in the hedgerows. The evenings have crept in a bit earlier, glorious sunsets blazing now before 8pm. It’s time for us to embrace the season change.
This beautiful syrup will help you slow down a bit both to pick and then to prepare. If you feel a dip in energy try it as described above, a hot drink with added whiskey if you like or if you’re clinging on to sun stick it in some fizz or a G&T and cheers the last summer rays!
Elderberry syrup-Elixir of Life?!
Pick as much fruit as you can, picking the heads carefully off the tree and shake a little to get any insects off. Fill a sink or basin with water and gently wash the berries; using a fork pull through the stalks so as you’re just getting the berries into the pan. This will take a while, be patient, put on some music or a podcast! When you’re finished, add water until it just covers the fruit and put on a medium heat on the hob, let simmer for around 20-30 minutes until the berries are soft. Strain through a muslin or tea towel, ideally overnight-I suspend mine from a cupboard handle.
Measure the juice, leave the fruit pulp out for the birds or in the compost. For every 570g of juice add 450g sugar and 10 cloves. Heat gently in the pan and stir until the sugar has dissolved completely, boil for 10 minutes and allow to cool. When cool pour into sterilised bottles, once opened keep in the fridge. Some people take a couple of teaspoons daily throughout the colder months.
*I’d like a more natural alternative as this stuff is toxic and horrible!
That was so beautiful and poignant. Thank you for sharing.
I think I need to go out with a tub and do some collecting on my next walk! Thanks for the inspiration - your cooking looks delish x