Morag Sinclair
The Rowan in Scottish Nature and Lore
Few trees are as woven into Scottish life as the rowan. Known also as the mountain ash, though it is no relation to the ash at all, it grows from lowland hedgerows and village greens to exposed hillsides and glen sides well over 500 metres. In May it carries flat heads of creamy blossom that hum with bees; by late summer those same heads have turned to heavy clusters of berries, hanging orange and then scarlet against ferny grey-green leaves.
The old lore is hard to ignore once you know it. Rowan was planted beside crofts and cottages to keep ill luck from the door, and it was considered deeply unlucky to cut one down. A sprig was carried for protection, sometimes tied with red thread, and the berries were strung above doorways at Hogmanay. Whether or not you hold with any of that, there is something quietly pleasing about gathering a fruit that people here have gathered for centuries.
When Rowan Berries Ripen
Timing varies enormously with height and latitude. In sheltered lowland Scotland, the first berries colour up from late August. On good trees they are at their best through September, and in the Highlands, the north and the islands you may still be picking in October, occasionally into early November in Shetland or on a late, cold year.
Look for berries that have moved from green through orange to a deep, even scarlet. They should feel firm but give slightly under the thumb. A touch of frost sweetens them a little and softens the flesh, but do not wait too long: redwings, fieldfares and waxwings arrive in autumn and will strip a tree in days. A dry, bright morning after a few dry days is ideal, as wet berries dilute the juice and mould more readily.
Gathering Kindly
Rowan is generous, but it is also food for wildlife and a slow grower on poor ground. A few simple habits keep the harvest sustainable and the tree healthy.
- Pick only where rowan is abundant locally, and take no more than a third of the berries on any one tree.
- Leave lone or wind-shaped specimen trees alone entirely; they are often old, fragile and relied upon by birds.
- Pull the berry clusters off by hand, or snip whole heads with a small pair of scissors. Never strip a branch or break it back to reach fruit.
- Avoid roadside trees, sprayed woodland edges, and anything growing near treated fences or busy lay-bys.
- On private land, ask first. In Scotland you have responsible access to most land, but that does not extend to foraging on any great commercial scale.
- Take a basket or a shallow bag rather than a plastic sack, so the berries do not crush and heat up on the way home.
From Picking to Pan
Back in the kitchen, tip the berries into a colander and rinse them well in cold water, picking out stalks, leaves and any fruit that has gone brown. Stalks are fiddly but worth removing, as they add a bitter note. Frozen berries work just as well as fresh, and a night in the freezer mimics the softening effect of frost if you have picked early.
Rowan berries are unpleasant raw: sour, mealy and astringent, and the seeds contain parasorbic acid, which can upset the stomach. Cooking converts this to harmless sorbic acid, so always cook rowan berries before eating them. Happily, they are exceptionally high in pectin, which is why they set into jelly so readily.
To extract the juice, simmer 1kg of berries with 1.2 to 1.5 litres of water for 30 to 40 minutes, mashing them against the side of the pan now and then. Tip everything into a scalded jelly bag or a double layer of muslin over a bowl and leave it to drip overnight. Resist squeezing the bag: it makes the jelly cloudy and adds an edge of bitterness.
A Tart Rowan Jelly for the Larder
Rowan jelly is the classic use, and the version most Scottish cooks keep for game, lamb and cheese. Roughly measure 600ml of juice into a wide preserving pan, add the juice of a lemon and 450g of granulated sugar. If you want a rounder flavour and a slightly softer set, simmer a couple of chopped crab apples or tart eating apples with the berries at the start.
Warm the sugar gently until it has dissolved completely, then bring the pan to a hard, rolling boil for 8 to 10 minutes. Test for a set by dropping a teaspoon onto a cold saucer and pushing it with a finger; it should wrinkle. Skim off any foam, pour into warm sterilised jars and seal. You should get three to four jars, and the jewel-bright red is worth the effort on its own. It keeps for a year or more in a cool, dark cupboard.
Rowan Syrup and Slow Autumn Days
For a syrup, simmer 500g of berries in 500ml of water with a strip of lemon zest for 20 minutes, mash, then strain as before. Return the juice to the pan with 300g of sugar and the lemon juice, and simmer gently until it coats the back of a spoon, about 10 to 15 minutes. Bottle hot into sterilised bottles, or keep it in the fridge for a month or two; it also freezes well in small tubs.
Use it stirred into hot toddies and whisky, drizzled over porridge or yogurt, brushed over roast venison and duck, or loosened with a little vinegar for a dressing. Some cooks reduce the juice further into a firm, sliceable rowan and apple cheese to eat with cheese and oatcakes.
There is something steadying about the whole business: a walk on a bright September morning, a basket of scarlet berries, a pan simmering on a grey afternoon and jars lining up on the shelf. It asks for nothing more than patience and a little care for the tree you took from, and it gives back a taste of autumn all winter long.
