#blackberries

#blackberries

Forget about apples and oranges nothing rhymes with orange anyway. Never mind those plums that William Carlos Williams sneaked from the icebox. The most poetic fruit of all is the blackberry. Not the mushy sugar bombs packed into plastic clamshells at the supermarket. Those are insipid, bland, prosaic. I mean the ragged, spicy volunteers that grow untended at the edge of a meadow or the side of a road. The kind you go out and pick in late summer or early fall. You'd be amazed at how many of those end up in poems.

Flourless chocolate cakes have an intense flavour, yet provide a blank canvas for all sorts of additions and/or substitutions. With our hedgerows producing untold thousands of tonnes of wild blackberries annually, there's rarely been a better time to embrace seasonal adaptations of this kind. To keep berries for longer, store them in a sealed container in the fridge with a sheet of kitchen towel in there to soak up any excess moisture.