Living the GOOD LIFE

There’s never been a better time to grow your own. In our new series, Sally Coulthard shares her hard-won tips for living off the land

As a child, I’d walk home from school past a long, dense hedgerow. In September, the branches would droop with elderberries – masses of blue-black pockets of juice ready to be popped. My friend and I would grab handfuls and stuff them in our mouths, or squash them in our fingers and paint our lips red. Years later, someone told me that raw elderberries are mildly toxic, but I seem to have survived. Moreover, it sparked an enduring love affair with hedgerow foraging – and September is the month to get rootling.

It’s one of Mother Nature’s nattiest tricks, to cover seeds in a delicious coating so they get dispersed by the wildlife who gorge on them. A plentiful menu at this time of year can mean the difference between wildlife surviving a harsh winter and not, so take a sustainable approach when gathering your crop. To find out how, enrol on a course with The Association of Foragers (foragersassociation.org) or read the Woodland Trust’s foraging guide (woodlandtrust.org.uk).

At this time of year, there are a few stars of the show, and one of them has to be sloes. Temptingly plump and thickly clustered among the thorns, you can tell they’re ready to be plucked if they squish easily between your fingers. Seasoned foragers will tell you to wait until the first frost, which sweetens the berries, but I’ve never had enough patience for that. Plus, you can achieve the same effect by freezing your haul at home. Half-filling a Kilner jar will give you enough for one bottle of winter-warming sloe gin.

Late blackberries are another one not to miss at this time of year. If the birds have left any on the bush, they’ll be at their darkest and sweetest. And my childhood favourite, shiny handfuls of elderberries, are also broadly available, and make a brilliant (and antioxidant-rich) addition to crumbles and jams.

For more advanced foraging, look out for hawthorn berries, which make a delicious vinegar, liqueur, jelly and ketchup. Also in their prime are rosehips, which make citrussy jams, syrups and cordials, and rowan berries, for a jelly that works brilliantly with game meat and cheese. My fruit du jour, however, has to be bullace, a wild version of the damson, which makes a sublimely fruity gin or vodka. I add a glug of something fizzy and call it a Hedgerow Royale, the ultimate reward for a productive day spent elbow-deep in leaves and scratchy thorns.

Columnist and seasoned smallholder Sally Coulthard shares her Yorkshire plot with sheep, horses, chickens, ducks, an orchard, vegetable garden and wild pond