Pleasant House

the berry

As Nance Klehm would say, “I tapped into my inner monkey.” I was walking Porkchop and, without any hesitation, reached up to the tree branch–hanging over the sidewalk and filled with many shades of red and purple fruit–plucked a small berry, and popped it into my mouth. I was a little tired from my Kansas trip; my mind was drifting toward the metaphorical fires I’d probably have to put out on my first day back to work. That first taste of a juneberry was just a reflex: the sight of the characteristic sawtooth-edged leaves and the blueberry-like fruit, and the first taste, were simultaneous.

juneberry tree

Granted, I’ve done a lot of research. My first hunt for them, last July, was, um, fruitless. Since then I have poured over images of trees, leaves, and ripe and unripe fruit, so I have had their appearance burned into my brain.

Fast forward to yesterday. All the trees that had pretty white blossoms a few weeks ago were now covered with juneberries! They were right in front of my face the whole time! Had I known earlier what kind of trees these are, I would have stalked them every day until they bore ripe fruit.

(This is a great example of how curiosity can turn into obsession–one I’ve had for a year now. 1. Trees are obviously planted, they don’t move, stalking seems ridiculous, and 2. A watched pot never boils and/or it’s better that I didn’t know they were juneberry trees because I wouldn’t have been surprised when I saw the fruit.)

For the past couple of mornings, these juneberries have made a pleasing breakfast. The berries are delicious–slightly sweet, like a blueberry, with a slight almond-extract finish, a result of the tiny edible seeds within them. They are chock-full of vitamins and minerals. I would say they are most delicious raw, right off the branch, gently warmed by the sun. I’m thinking about bringing a cup of honeyed yogurt with me tomorrow morning to throw a handful of juneberries into. That might draw the attention of the neighbors? Perhaps not as much as Chelsea eating them out of a clean poop bag. (Well, almost. She stopped short of doing that while walking with Porkchop, one hand in the berry-filled poop bag, as someone walked toward her with a puzzled look.)

Dennis, a commenter on my “Kansas: Inspiration” post, wrote to tell me that juneberries are in full swing in this area and describes how he is putting his forage to good use:

“I’ve already made two batches of muffins, put enough in the freezer for two pies for Thanksgiving, and have about 22 cups worth to clean….AND still have 3-10 trees I haven’t picked yet (not sure how much my wife will let me bring home).”

Wow, Dennis is on a mission. He has even offered, after I volunteered, to meet me out in the suburbs to give me a bunch of berries to brew into wine! It’s exactly that type of excitement, that adrenaline rush, that you get from foraging nature’s candy. Juneberries are only around for a few weeks, so they are really a treat to find and savor.

With just a handful of juneberries, puff pastry from the freezer, and a quick pastry cream, I whipped up a little juneberry tart for dessert last night. Yum!

Chelsea's pastry cream

baked tart

my juneberry romance

juneberry tart with vanilla-bean ice cream and anise hyssop leaf