Mulberries

I knew little of mulberries before I got to know several of the trees on our property. Our realtor warned that it would be a messy tree and we might even consider taking it down. After all, the tree was only good for a bit of shade and nothing else. Admittedly, the driveway was a mess. It was August and the ground below the tree's broad canopy, was dotted with squished and over-ripened berries. A few random berries still clung to the branches. Despite the fact that they quickly stained my fingers when I picked a handful, the taste was a delightful combination of sweet and tart with a hint of spice. It's no wonder why some make mulberry wine. 

The following June, I watched in anticipation as the elongated berries on our trees began changing from a pale white to blush, and then to a rich purplish-black. Standing beneath the canopy provided the best view and the quantity was overwhelming. We tasted them, and were taken with the intense syrupy sweetness from such a small fruit.

If you know anything about mulberries, then already you're saying, "she keeps calling them berries. Mulberries aren't berries." Yes, it's true. Mulberries aren't really berries at all. In fact, they are a members of the Moraceae family, and are more closely related to figs. Go figure. Mulberries don't grow on canes as raspberries or blackberries do. They grow on trees-- white, red and black mulberry trees. Raspberries and blackberries are aggregate fruits whereas mulberries are multiple fruits. And as for the childhood rhyme about going around the mulberry bush, well, there are no mulberry bushes, only trees. Perhaps a nice glass of mulberry wine, and we can mull it over...

Seriously though....when it comes to foraging on our property, I get pretty serious. I watch as leaves form, then the flowers, then the "berries." 

Harvesting mulberries takes a team effort and defies the no climbing and no shaking the branch rules that we abide by in orchards. Our first year in our home, our sons were younger and the idea of climbing a ladder and smacking the trees branches was an enormous attraction. They're older now, and it's no surprise that my husband and I are the only ones picking. 

For the first several years, we kept it simple and made mulberry jam, jelly and added some of the juice to our beverage cooler along with a leaves of mint or lemon balm.

This year, we've been experiencing the longest berry season so far. Mulberries began ripening at the end of June, and still, today, if I'm patient, I can fill several quarts. I'm surprised that the rains haven't knocked them to the ground. For a delicate berry, they do manage to cling onto the branches.

Harvesting mulberries is a commitment because mulberries have a very short shelf life and have to be dealt with the same day that you pick them.  On several occasions throughout the season, we lay a tarp beneath the canopy. My husband climbs the ladder to shake branches while I stand below smacking the branches with a pole to release the fruit. Showers of mulberries fall to the tarp. We move around the tree, lightening the load on the branches until the tarp fills. 

Mulberries are lower in pectin, but still make for a delicious jelly or jam on their own or paired with other berries and fruit. Syrup is delicious too on pancakes and waffles which are favorites in our house. Mulberry iced tea and lemonade too are awesome for a refreshing summer drink. I had a few extra pints and decided to see how they taste dehydrated. With this humidity, it will take a couple of days.

As I look out the window, I see a doe and her fawn nibbling on the branches of the mulberry tree.  The tree is such an abundant giver and there's enough for everyone.  Our tree provides a snack and shelter from the rain that is coming down again. Admittedly, I'm a bit weary and I will happily welcome the sunshine when it returns.  There are positives though when we are forced to break from the busy routine. The garden doesn't need to be watered, giving our well and my husband a break. I don't have to feel guilty for not giving our hens free-range time because most of them are already up on the roost for the night. That's where I'm heading soon...to my roost with a glass of mulberry iced tea.