Responsible foraging for berries in autumn

An autumn larder, shared with wildlife

By late September the hedgerows have turned heavy and dark, and the woodland edge smells of damp leaf litter and ripe fruit. For a few short weeks, the British countryside offers one of its most generous — and most easily squandered — harvests. Berries are the point at which a walk becomes a larder, whether you are on a Herefordshire lane, a Cornish cliff path or a pine-and-granite coastline in the far north. They are also the difference between a song thrush getting through the winter and not. Foraging well means taking a little, leaving plenty, and knowing exactly what is in your hand before it reaches your mouth.

Getting your eye in: the reliable ones

Begin with species that are hard to confuse, and learn them properly in the field rather than from a photograph. The following are widespread, abundant and forgiving.

• Blackberries — the gateway berry. Ripe ones come away with almost no pull and are dull black, not glossy red. Look along sunny hedgerow edges and woodland rides from August into October.
• Bilberries — smaller, darker and purpler than blueberries, growing low on acid moorland and open heath. They stain the fingers and are worth every scratched forearm. Late summer to early autumn.
• Rowan — clusters of orange-red berries on a tree with fern-like leaves. Too bitter and astringent to eat raw, but superb cooked into a sharp jelly for game and cheese.
• Elderberries — small, black, hanging in loose sprays on reddish stems. Never eat them raw. Cooked into syrup or cordial they are one of the great autumn staples.
• Rosehips and hawthorn haws — both abundant in hedges and both excellent for syrups and fruit leathers. Rosehips need the hairy seeds strained out; haws have a large stone to work around.

Sloes, damsons and crab apples often grow nearby, and a mixed hedgerow haul makes far better preserves than any single fruit.

What to walk past

Some of the prettiest berries in the British countryside are genuinely dangerous, and a few are lethal in small quantities. Learn these by sight and leave them completely alone.

• Yew — the bright red, fleshy cup around a single dark seed. Every part except the flesh is highly toxic.
• Deadly nightshade — glossy black berries with a star-shaped calyx, on a scrambling plant with dull purple bell flowers.
• Woody nightshade (bittersweet) — scarlet berries in loose clusters, common in hedges and gardens.
• Spindle, ivy, privet, laurel and lords-and-ladies — all produce berries that are toxic or cause serious stomach upset.
• Honeysuckle — red berries in autumn, easily mistaken at a glance for something edible.

The old rule holds: if you are not certain, it is not food. There is no shame in going home with an empty basket and a good walk behind you.

Harvesting gently

How you pick matters as much as what you pick. A hedgerow stripped bare in September is a hedge that starves its residents in January.

• Take no more than about a tenth of the fruit on any bush or tree, and leave the outer, harder-to-reach branches entirely for birds.
• Pick above knee height, and wash everything thoroughly — lower berries are within reach of dogs and livestock.
• Use both hands or a small pair of scissors. Tugging damages next year's growth and shakes off unripe fruit you will not use.
• Carry a shallow basket or a rigid tub rather than a plastic bag, so berries do not crush and ferment on the walk home.
• Leave small, unripe and blemished fruit alone. It will not ripen in your kitchen.
• Stay on paths where ground is fragile, and check local rules — on protected sites and many nature reserves, foraging is restricted or prohibited.

Coastal berries and a Nordic outlook

Around our wind-scoured coasts, autumn foraging has a distinctly northern character. Sea buckthorn hangs in dense orange clusters along dune edges and shingle, mouth-puckeringly sour and exceptionally high in vitamin C. Crowberries darken the heath, juniper bushes carry their blue-black cones, and wild raspberries hide in coastal scrub. The Nordic idea of friluftsliv — open-air living, whatever the weather — suits this landscape perfectly: a thermos, a wool layer, a slow walk into a headwind, and a pocketful of something sharp and bright.

Coastal plants are often stunted and low, so crouch and pick carefully rather than trampling a decade of slow growth. Wind-battered bushes hold their fruit close to the ground, which makes them tempting to strip — don't. Take a handful, move on, and let the rest feed the wintering thrushes arriving from Scandinavia.

From basket to kitchen

Get your haul home, sort it at once, and discard anything bruised or unripe. Sloes are best frozen overnight before use, which breaks down the fruit and softens their fierce astringency. Elderberries must always be cooked; simmer them with a little water, strain, and bottle the juice with sugar as a cordial or a hot toddy base. Rowan and crab apple jelly is a classic pairing, and heps make a syrup that is lovely stirred into yoghurt.

Avoid aluminium pans with acidic fruit, freeze soft berries on trays before bagging, and label everything with the date and place. Then plan the next walk — the season is short, and the good hedges are worth returning to.