It's Berry Time

I

n June 2002, the Russian government ordered a massive recall of bilberries from Moscow markets. The berries had been grown in Belarus, in a region contaminated by the 1986 Chernobyl fallout, and testing revealed unacceptably high levels of cesium. For Muscovites, this news was quite a blow. Like mushrooms, berries are especially close to the Russian heart, and the thought that they might be off-limits was distressing. In early autumn, Russians head to the dacha to forage for mushrooms (khodit po griby), but during the summer they like to go out into the meadows and forests to gather berries (khodit po yagody). A poignant sight in the new Russia is the women on street corners who sell buckets of freshly picked berries. In the past, these berries would have gone into jam pots and pies, but now they represent much-needed hard cash.

In this new economy, a bit of Russian culture risks being lost. Russians have traditionally considered jam-making a high art. In Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, Princess Shcherbatskaya herself supervises the cook to make sure that the jam is properly prepared, and in Ivan Bunin’s “Sukhodol,” so many different kinds of jam are offered at a fancy tea that it is impossible for the guests to taste them all at one sitting. 

Russian-style jam is very different from the thick jam we’re accustomed to in the States. Russian “jam” is actually preserves in which individual berries are suspended in a thick sugar syrup. Another difference is that, in the US, we tend to buy berries at the grocery store or at farmers’ markets, or perhaps we’ll go to Pick-Your-Own farms to harvest them ourselves. But these berries are all cultivated. The Russians, by contrast, prize the hunt; they love the wild berries that are there for the picking. Many of their favorite berries grow wild in the US, too, so why not plan a Russian-style picnic? Just remember that as many berries need to go into the bucket as into your mouth! Here is a brief guide to some Russian favorites.

Strawberries. The Russians vastly prefer the tiny, sweet wild strawberries known as zemlyanika to the large, cultivated strawberries, klubnika. Here in the States, it’s possible to grow something similar to zemlyanika by planting the French variety known as fraises des bois. They won’t taste quite as deeply of the zemlya or “earth” as the Russian berries that derive their name from Mother Earth, but they’re a good approximation.

Blueberries, bilberries, whortleberries. All of these dark blue berries, which grow wild throughout the Russian north, go by the name of chernika. The true Russian blueberry, like the wild blueberries of Maine, is small and intensely flavored – nothing like the overblown cultivated blueberries that appear in most American grocery stores. These berries are prized as a filling for all manner of pirozhki (pies) and vareniki (dumplings).

Raspberries. The malina is another beloved Russian berry. The biggest problem with raspberries is to harvest them without getting torn up by their thorny branches, though they ultimately taste all the sweeter for the effort involved. Cousin to the raspberry are the blackberry (ezhevika) and the arctic bramble, whose berry looks so regal that it goes by the name of knyazhenika, derived from the word root for “princess.” 

Cloudberries (moroshka) are not quite as common as the yellow raspberries they resemble, but their exotic flavor makes them a favorite. In fact, as the great Russian poet Pushkin lay dying after his duel, he is said to have asked for nothing more than moroshki.

Cranberries and lingonberries. The Russian love for things sour is evident in the extensive use to which they put these two deep red berries, which grow in the northern bogs. The lingonberry (brusnika) is smaller and less sour than the cranberry, with a wonderfully dusky flavor. Lingonberries find their way into jam and summertime tarts. The cranberry (klyukva) is near ubiquitous and serves as the basis for the beloved cornstarch-thickened fruit pudding known as kisel’ and for mors, a refreshing, Vitamin-C rich fruit drink. Cranberries are also coated with egg whites and sugar to give them a sweet, festive frosting. 

— Darra Goldstein

Fresh Cranberry Juice

(Klyukvenny mors)

1 pound cranberries

4 cups water

1 cup sugar

¹/₄ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

Zest of half a lemon, in a long spiral

Rinse the cranberries and place them in a large saucepan with the water. Bring to a boil, and boil for about 45 minutes, or until the skins burst.

Meanwhile, line a colander with cheesecloth. When the cranberries have burst, strain the juice, letting it drip into a bowl for a few minutes. Then gently press the cranberries to extract the remaining juice. (If a very clear juice is desired, strain once again through clean cheesecloth.)

Return the juice to a clean saucepan and bring to a boil with the sugar. Simmer for just 1 or 2 minutes, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Let cool.

When the juice has cooled, stir in the lemon juice and the lemon spiral. Chill before serving.

Makes about 1 quart.

From A Taste of Russia 

(to order, call 800-639-4301)