Everybody’s fool

Plump, ripe, fresh-picked berries, still warm with the heat of the sun, are true summer bliss. These fruits have a delicate nature, and are small and vulnerable, needing to be handled with care. I don’t think there are any berries I don’t like, although I do have some biases.

Blueberries, I feel, are the hardy, practical ones and are a true botanical berry. There is a blueberry plant on my balcony that seems to be growing well, with some potential fruits that have so far escaped the wind. Also on blueberries, I used to make a traditional Italian lasagne with porcini mushrooms and a blueberry sauce, which may sound strange to some but was a perfect autumnal dish and shows the versatility of the fruit.

Strawberries, though not a true berry, are well loved and delicious with rose flavours. They are also the only one I sometimes have a problem with when they are cooked a little and have the strange texture of the pieces you find in strawberry yoghurt. I have bad childhood memories of small tubs of this in my lunchbox.

Mulberries and blackberries, too, are a wild delight picked from a vine, messy and staining in all their glory. But if I had to choose just one, a raspberry would be the winner. This is a tricky game, though, because as soon as one settles on a favourite, memories of past berries come flooding back, like a lingonberry jam I had with a smoked deer heart in Sweden.

Raspberries, and indeed every fruit we consider a berry, shouldn’t be messed with too much, as they are perfect as they are. With exceptions, of course. I am still embarrassingly fond of a coulis. Raspberry jam is my favourite, and I had many excellent moments in my late teenage years sipping raspberry daiquiris at Dean’s, a late-night cafe in Sydney’s Kings Cross. And there is something magical about berries and cream – raspberries, in particular, with their soft sweetness and just the right amount of tart, a balance I am partial to.

This recipe is an old English dessert beautiful in its simplicity. A combination of raspberries and cream, it is simple to whip up. It’s best made in advance and there is magic in the few ingredients that results in a delicate and airy not-too-sweet dessert. Fools are often just cream, but I find the addition of a yoghurt cuts the richness just a little without compromising the fluffy delicacy. The combination of the cooked and raw raspberries adds to the layers, but the best benefit is the beautiful jewel-like juice that disperses the raspberry flavour more fully, the cocoa nib to finish lending the slightest hint of texture and bitterness.

Set your yoghurt to strain in the morning, prepare your berries and then it’s just a matter of a little mixing later on. And there you have it, a delicate dessert, or breakfast, ready for the next day. Here’s to celebrating fools and suffering them gladly.