Why Rowan Berries Are Worth Your Time

Rowan — Sorbus aucuparia, the mountain ash — is one of the most generous wild fruits in Britain and one of the most overlooked. From late August the berries hang in heavy orange clusters along upland lanes, hedgerows, churchyards and even supermarket car parks, and most of them go to the birds. Which is as it should be, up to a point. But two kilos in your basket will give you four or five jars of a jelly that is bitter, sharp and quite unlike anything you can buy. It is a jelly for cold game, roast lamb and blue cheese rather than for toast, and that is exactly what makes it worth making.

Identifying and Picking Rowan

Rowan is a small tree, rarely more than ten metres, and easy to recognise once you know what you are looking at.

• Leaves: pinnate, with five to eight pairs of narrow, serrated leaflets plus a single terminal leaflet. They turn an excellent burnt orange in autumn.
• Berries: roughly the size of a pea, bright orange to scarlet, held in flat-topped clusters of twenty or more. Each berry carries a small five-pointed star scar at its base — the surest confirmation you have the right tree.
• Bark: smooth and silvery-grey on young trees, becoming cracked and darker with age.
• Habitat: upland and northern Britain is rowan country, but it is planted widely in towns, so a good crop is often a short walk away.

Take only from trees carrying plenty of fruit, and never strip a tree bare — redwings, fieldfares and waxwings depend on these berries through the winter. Avoid roadside trees that may have been sprayed, and always ask permission on private land.

Frost, Flavour and Preparation

There is an old belief that rowan berries must wait for the first frost. Strictly speaking the frost does not change the fruit's chemistry, but it does soften the flesh and take the edge off the bitterness, so the advice is sound enough in practice. If you pick in September before any frost has arrived — which is often the sensible thing, before the birds clear the tree — simply bag the berries and freeze them for forty-eight hours. The ice crystals do the same work.

To prepare, run a fork down each cluster to strip the berries into a bowl. There is no need to top and tail them. Wash them well and discard any stalks and leaves. Raw rowan berries contain parasorbic acid, which can cause an upset stomach, so resist nibbling — cooking destroys it entirely.

The Apple Trick: Softening the Bitterness

Rowan berries alone make a harsh, tannic jelly, and they are low in pectin, so they need help on both counts. Apples supply it. A sharp cooking apple such as Bramley's Seedling is ideal, though crab apples make a beautifully tart jelly if you can find them.

For a reliable batch, use 1kg rowan berries, 1kg chopped apples, 1.2 litres water and the juice of one lemon. Roughly chop the apples — leave skins and cores in, as they are rich in pectin — and put everything in a large pan. Bring to a simmer, then cook gently for 40 to 45 minutes, until the fruit has collapsed into a soft pulp. Mash it with a potato masher halfway through to help it along. The lemon juice sharpens the flavour and helps the set.

Straining for a Clear Jelly

Pour the pulp into a scalded jelly bag or a double layer of muslin suspended over a large bowl. Then leave it alone. Let it drip overnight, or for at least eight hours, and do not squeeze or poke the bag. Squeezing forces fine particles through and gives you a cloudy jelly; patience gives you one that glows like stained glass.

Resist the temptation to hasten things along with a spoon. If the dripping slows to nothing, that is your lot — measure what you have and accept the yield.

Setting, Potting and Ways to Use It

Measure the strained juice and allow 450g sugar for every 600ml of juice. Warm the sugar in a low oven, then stir it into the juice over a gentle heat until completely dissolved. Only then bring it to a rolling boil and hold it there until setting point — 104°C to 105°C on a thermometer, or the wrinkle test on a chilled saucer. Skim off the scum, pot into warm sterilised jars, and seal.

The result is a deep amber-orange jelly with a clean, faintly resinous bite. Serve it with venison or roast lamb, stir a spoonful into pan juices for a game gravy, or set it on a board beside a strong blue cheese and oatcakes. It also makes an excellent glaze for roast pork. Label the jars and keep them somewhere cool and dark; the colour will fade in bright light long before the flavour does.