Season of mist and mellow fruitfulness – Autumnal Foraging in Forge Valley, North Yorkshire

By A Venturing Nomad.

I’d always assumed the river trickling through Forge Valley in North Yorkshire, was the river Forge, its not, its the Derwent.  The name comes from the old iron Forges that dominated the area when charcoal was extracted for them in the 1700’s.

The road is a delight as it follows the meandering course of the river and its no surprise that this road in particular, was a stage in the around-Britain RAC rally, back in the day.  So if you have an uninterested significant other when you propose a day trip, drop that into conversation and see anyone with an ounce of petrol in their veins, not light up at the thought of being behind the wheel.

But its flower heads, rather than petrol heads, that bring us to this beyond beautiful oasis just three miles from coastal Scarborough.  I wanted to try my hand at foraging and what I could make from my finds as home-made gifts are on my agenda for this Christmas, to take a step back from increasingly commercialised and plastic gift giving.

I am a complete rookie to this game, armed only with good intentions, a basket and intense research (aka google search) I confidently stride out from one of the many picture perfect glade car parks dotted along the valley floor, feeling like a pioneer in full hunter-gathering mode.

Foraging is obviously seasonal and so whilst in spring its wild garlic, to make wild garlic pesto, and elder flowers to make cordial from my grandmothers recipe.  this time of year has me reciting a school day John Keats poem, Ode to Autumn, a loving memory of school, particularly as mine was not far from here further down the valley, even though like most children, I’m not sure I fully appreciated the stunning location, or the poetry, at the time.

“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, close bosom-friend of the maturing sun”

So this time of year I am looking for blackberries, to make Christmas gifts of Blackberry Liqueur or Crème de Mure, as the French would call it.

Finding a blackberry bush, laden with fruit, is like finding buried treasure, and the basket is quickly looking full from only a few minutes of fruitful (pun aside) labour.  My glamorous assistant, golden retriever seems also to be a fan as I turn to see his, normally, golden blonde mouth now pinky purple from nibbling the berries on the lower bushes.  His guilty eyes look up at me as though to ask for permission to carry on, it only needs a smile for him to return to his fruity focus.

Whilst jams and crumbles are a traditional destination for blackberry, or brambles, depending on where you grew up, this harvest is destined for gift giving using noting more than the addition of some water, sugar and vodka, follow the link for the recipe, and who wont enjoy receiving their very own bottle in their Christmas stocking.

Christmas morning mimosas can easily be replaced with a sparkling glass of your favourite fizz with the addition of a couple of tea spoons of blackberry liqueur to have everyone feeling, quite literally, in the pink.  A gift with love from a little bit of adventure.

Not travelling overseas until age 19, this Venturing Nomad's work and life have taken her to just under 70 countries, with more adventures always planned. Twelve years as a Diplomat led to excitement and adventures across the globe, and she is now enjoying travelling with her young daughter and seeing the world afresh through her eyes.

A published author in fact and fiction, she firmly believes in the mantra "take only photos - leave only footprints". More of a feeder than a foodie, she has cooked her way around the globe, from the hill tribes in Thailand, Nonna's kitchen in Italy to the beachfront hotel in Morocco. There is always a story and, more importantly, a recipe.

You can contact her at [email protected]