'Sloes hath ben my food'

A possible paint for the Picts and a definite culprit in tea fraud, the cheek-suckingly sour sloe's spiritual home is indisputably in gin, says John Wright

- John Wright

THE blackthorn is an old friend on these islands, having been collected here since Neolithic times and in great quantity. Indeed, sufficient sloe stones to fill a small wheelbarrow were found in the Glastonbury Lake Village in Somerset. Sloes were used for food, of course, but possibly also for blue dye. Perhaps it wasn’t woad that painted the Picts. The timber has been of great use, providing a vigorous firewood, tool handles and walking sticks —most particularly shillelaghs, one of which I made some years ago, complete with lead inside its near-spherical handle. The timber for this came from the brash around a recently laid hedge, leading us to blackthorn’s most important use: as a preferred hedging tree second only to the better-tempered hawthorn.

I expect few readers will be unaware of the flavour of sloes straight from the tree: acidic and astringent. ‘The blackthorn blossom fades and falls and leaves the bitter sloe,’ as Tennyson warns. Late in a warm year, a little sweetness might accompany larger fruit. I have learned to enjoy the sharp flavour and ignore the cheek-sucking aspect, finding sloes to be a powerful pick-me-up on walks. Our early ancestors, largely strangers to sugar in their diet, evidently cared not at all. Virgil, no less, writes: ‘For hunger, sloes hath ben my food.’