Jostaberry season
Found them!
And no, they weren’t in the teetering compost heap. But slouching on the stone edge of the potager path. Note to self: spray paint them a more vivid colour so I don’t waste ages hunting and cursing.
The last time I spray painted them was when the septic tank lads were here and I borrowed their garish orange spray paint can to give them a blast. And that was two years ago.
Gawd, look at how grotty they are. I need to give them some love now that they are back.
But right now I have no time for such fripperies as care of tools. It’s heatwave season here. And that means your chances of doing anything productive in the garden involves getting up early. Or having enough vim to surge out after dinner and try and work.
It’s a race against the planet right now. My poor jostaberry bushes – getting scorched by this unprecedented blasting heat and hot wind in June.
Well, let’s just accept that the unprecedented is the norm now and try and work around it.
The way I work my way around the soft fruit orchard in front of the potager.
The weed proof fabric has been such a great idea. It’s positively simple to step down off the path and get picking.
I know, I know. Not for purists. But the past two years have been a blissful picking possibility without having to wade through weeds.
And I can locate the cat when she plays hide and seek. Or scratch and leap. Here she is poised to pounce on a Tupperware box of fruit that is in her way.
I didn’t take the action attack shot that took place three seconds after this – I was too busy trying to get the fruit out of her reach.
A lot of these wacky jostaberry bushes are coming to the end of their lives. Over thirty years seems to be a fine score if you ask me. Especially as they are so incredibly productive. But I am noticing quite a few branches this year are doing that over-dramatic die back and wither as they are stressed by the weather.
I just cut the branches and keep on picking. Secure in the knowledge that I have taken a dozen cuttings two years ago and have a new hedge growing merrily at the top potager.
Ooh, I can’t show you that – I have a secret project up there that is not ready to be revealed.
Back in the kitchen when the heat gets unbearable I do the sorting: good black ones go to the metal trays in the deep freezer. I open freeze them and then store them for eating all year.
The less ripe and wonky go into future cordial stock in the freezer (labelling being vital here, they look alike).
And as I have so many I’m also madly making jam. And some bottles of cordial too.
That is the one advantage of the heat wave – you have to find things to do indoor for hours and hours while you wait for it to cool.
And yes, there has been lolling about reading online newspapers on one’s iPad and almost but not quite having a nap. But I do try and be good.
Christine
22nd June 2022 @ 5:59 pm
Your pantry looks amazing! All these jams and cordial, neatly arranged… I am considering planting a jostaberry (are they known as “caseille” in French?), but when I’ve asked around me about the taste I either get blank looks (never ‘eard of them) or dismissive comments. Are you able to explain what they taste like? Very sharp? Aromatic? My latest fruit discovery is Nankin cherries (camérisier). Smitten, planning a whole hedge of them.
Lindy
22nd June 2022 @ 6:38 pm
I love my pantry! It’s on show in the corner of the kitchen so it’s fun to see things neat and orderly. (Fear not, there is a mucky pantry for groceries in the workshop that is positively slatternly in appearance.)
Caseille / Jostaberry will work well in your higher altitude garden. But you need to give it s space and resist the temptation to prune. They are wacky plants. How would you describe their flavour? Grown up fruit. Not as tart as their parents gooseberries. But definitely not gushingly sweet. They are spared the thorns of the gooseberry but you don’t get the aromatic leaf of the other parent, the black currant. I love them because they are very prolific, make a great jam and a great cordial without needing a bucket of sugar. And not many of my French mates have ever eaten them. Now off I go to do a bit of research on your nankin cherries. Our crop of ‘normal’ cherries was dismal this year.
Lindy
22nd June 2022 @ 6:43 pm
Frédéric Cochet. A Pepiniere at Aubenas. Renown for his collection of fruit trees from our region. I don’t agree with his pruning techniques, but he does have them at his nursery.
https://www.cochet-pepiniere-fruitier.com/cassis/26-CASSEILLE-Josta.html
Christine
22nd June 2022 @ 6:55 pm
Thank you Lindy! I shall look. But not just now – packing for a holiday departure tomorrow morning to Turkey. As if I needed more heat!!! It will be lovely to see friends again and to swim in the Aegean. I think you might like Nankin cherries, they have the exact flavour of a sour cherry but less sour. I’d like to grow persimmons (Meader) and pawpaws (asimina triloba) and kiwai but I might be pushing my luck at my altitude.
Lisa
23rd June 2022 @ 8:30 am
Shamelessly in favour of weedmat round soft fruits – especially after having to delicately rinse the grass seeds & other foreign matter off this year’s meagre red currant crop. Still about a year’s worth of brush cutting (strimming to Brit readers) and mowing to go round here. And the beastly starlings have taken every last not-yet-ripe jostaberry here, ditto the cherries, even the sour ones. Pickings must be slim elsewhere.
Off to investigate camérisier …
Lindy
23rd June 2022 @ 2:17 pm
That’s so unfair! Not a jostaberry! Let me know what your camerisier research throws up. Is it to be an Ardeche or a Gers wonder?
Lisa
25th June 2022 @ 1:51 pm
The camerisier turns out to be what gets sold in nurseries around here as ‘Baie de mai’. As a honeysuckle relative it should be relatively bomb proof though it might prefer your soil to my impenetrable clay – it’s supposed to prefer a well drained cool soil with plenty of humus – wouldn’t we all!
Reckon I might give one a try in half shade to guard against drying out in summer. Otherwise it’s a sun lover.
Lindy
29th June 2022 @ 10:59 am
Ah yes, that great unicorn – well drained and moist. Hah! Let us know how it goes.
Christine
11th July 2022 @ 9:51 am
Picking up the thread after my time away… I realize now that I caused a lot of confusion by giving the wrong name: the Nankin cherry is ragouminier in French, not camérisier which is a totally different animal (incidentally, I’m planning to plant some of these too). So, apologies to you and to Lisa.
Here’s a link to the correct plant https://www.planfor.fr/achat,cerisier-du-nankin-ragouminier,7881,FR
Lindy
11th July 2022 @ 5:12 pm
We need to see the whole hedge of trees once they are in. Thank you for the clarification!