Shadblow in my kitchen

Well, the plant has so many common names...

I headed for The Noisest Park in the World, between the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges, to see if the Juneberry bushes there still had some berries. My Edible Brooklyn berry writing and cover picture last June may well have had something to do with the fact that the trees at Pier One, just south,  had clearly enjoyed some human attention.

On the way, however, having taken a slightly different route, I was surprised by an unexpected grove of Amelanchier trees, dripping with fruit. In its winding green depths I stumbled upon another forager, a lady with white hair and red lipstick - me, in 30 years time - and a sackful of purple fruit. She said she hadn't meant to stop but then realized that her umbrella bag would be perfect for holding berries. Such is the forager's thought process. Her bicycle was parked nearby. At least, I think it was her bicycle. It was orange. I didn't ask more questions, but should have. She, too, knew that Pier One berries had been Discovered.

I now have a decent haul, and pie is in our near future. These berries are riper than some I have collected and the very dark, near black fruit taste like cooked apples. I know that the seeds, when heated, will release their marzipan flavour. Perfect for dessert. The Frenchman almost wagged his tail when I mentioned pie. That will be for tonight.

If you come over, I'll save you a slice.