Currant thinking

IN a jar to the side of my desk sit a number of upturned items: a 6H pencil from the table at which my father wrote that I use for sketching garden plans, a pen for writing plant labels and a fork that’s more practical than pretty.

- Mark Diacono

This is the fork—with its coarse tines—to which I turn for a month or two each summer to strip the blackcurrants from each plant when its fruit have swelled and pulled the limbs into weeping contortions that threaten but never quite snap the branches.

That the plants bend so much tells you how productive blackcurrants are: now they are established, we get about 9lb of juicy fruit per bush, repaying the cost of the plant many times over every year. Not only are they great value, but the taste of homegrown blackcurrants surpasses my keen anticipation every year: when deep in colour and completely ripe, they are complex, full of flavour and with sharp and sweet in glorious balance.

The local birds are equally keen. They will likely line up along a good vantage point to judge when your currants are at their perfect moment; usually a few days after the fruits’ appearance tells you they are ready to pick. Allowing the berries to develop past this point of deep colour brings greater sweetness and depth of flavour. If you have space and inclination for a fruit cage, growing blackcurrants under netting ensures you keep the fruit for yourself, but, if your blackcurrants are in the open, keep an eye out for the birds and start picking fast.