The Good Life: Craving for vrai myrtilles sauvages, Bilberries or Fraochán

When you look forward to the August Bank Holiday weekend you have a certain amount of expectation measured with more than a fair sprinkling of pessimism. The first break since early June and the knowledge that the Irish Summer has passed you by is confirmed when you realise the weather forecast for the August Bank Holiday weekend is going to be dull, overcast and damp at best. In fact you could view it as the departure of the Summer as the weather was going to be in constant decline from Friday afternoon.

Undeterred by the lack of global warming and promised long stretches of sunshine we ventured into the Dublin mountains for a little adventure suitably attired in warm clothing. Our quest was to find bog land as Corinne wanted to see if we could collect what the French call myrtilles sauvages, and are known as bilberries in England or fraochán in Ireland. She has often treated me to Tarte aux Myrtilles or Vrai Myrtilles Sauvages en bocaux while in France. There is some bog land in the Doubs region where these low growing shrubs or vaccinium myrtillus and its related species thrive in the acid soil. They may also be found in some of the forests where the soil is suitable.

 A view of the fraochán still in situ

Bog land is plentiful in the Dublin and Wicklow mountains and we stopped close to Glencree sighting the bright green foliage, and a number of people practically on their hands and knees collecting in the cold mist and rain. At first this might seem like an unrewarding task, but after a few hours collecting by hand you might gather almost three quarters of a kilo of the small black berries. We saw little or no evidence of people having used combs which can be used to rake the berries from their branches. These gather a good quantity of berries quite quickly but also strip the leaves from the small shrubs. As we drove closer to Glencree we saw more and more of these shrubs, not just growing among the heather but growing in thick tufts along the road side and atop the distinctive Wicklow granite walls.

Drawing your fingers through the fleshy green leaves to collect the small berries, you can gather a multitude of little insects disturbing the happy existence of small spiders and ladybirds. Corinne found a frog at one point. During my foraging, I noticed a tiny ladybird moving about climbing through the berries in the container. The ladybird was extremely small and quite unusually coloured. Before it took flight to a safer location, I managed to photograph it and subsequently discovered it was a 10-spot ladybird or Adalia decempunctata. Add another dot to your chart Mister Anderson!  This site has a more accurate distribution chart for this type of ladybird

The "punk" - the 10-spot ladybird or Adalia decempunctata among the small berries

Upon reaching the kitchen we started the lengthy process of cleaning the berries an separating them from a multitude of tiny leaves, twigs and diminutive spiders. Fortunately most of the spiders had disappeared by the time the berries were washed and were not condemned to a watery grave. An average full depth tarte aux myrtilles would employ 600 grams of the precious berries; a few hours work wrapped in a sweet pastry crust. I wanted to preserve a few berries and Corinne, becoming more and more demanding, made a strong argument for tarte aux myrtilles. I decided to scale down the affair, being a moderate diplomat maintaining the vestiges of some control and proposed the option of a few tartlets.

 A close up of the cleaned berries - not unlike there tasteless commercially grown cousins the blueberries

The vrai myrtilles sauvages en bocaux is the least difficult method of preserving the berries. The recipe was given to me by a friend of Corinne's who lives near Frasne in the Haut Doubs, which is very close to one of the few bogs in the area. Essentially you fill a .75 litre Le Parfait jar or other preserving jar with the berries and sprinkle over them two tablespoons of sugar. Seal down the jars and put the in a large preserving pot or bain marie with a lid. Place a tea towel on the base of the pan.; preferably the one you have just destroyed while cleaning the berries. This prevents the jars coming in direct contact with the heat. Fill the pan with water until it reaches two thirds the height of the jars, and simmer steadily covered for 1 hour. Allow to cool and store in a cool dry place away from sunlight. These are great on a cold winters night after dinner served with sweetened whipped cream. Do not forget to compare the colour of your tongues!

Corinne changed her mind (a recently developed fluctuating characteristic which is difficult to accept at times), and wanted a baked custard base filling to her tarte aux myrtilles. Fortunately, this allowed a more moderate use of the berries, and I should be able to make a full tart using a 24 centimeter tart ring. To begin place 250 grams of the berries with 50 grams of sugar in a pot and cook for 5  minutes. Thereafter allow to cool and strain the cooked berries through a sieve retaining the juice. Pour this juice over the uncooked berries and stir - I have about 270 grams remaining!

Then make a sweet shortcrust pastry. I rub approximately 250 grams of flour and 40 grams of icing sugar, together with 125 grams of cold butter. Once it mixture is the consistency of breadcrumbs, add an egg yolk and two or three tablespoons of cold water. Bring the pastry together and place in the fridge for about 20 minutes to rest.

In the meantime you can prepare your custard. There are many recipes for this, but I generally beat 4 eggs with two tablespoons of sugar, and a teaspoon of  purée de gousses de vanille or vanilla extract. Once combined I add to the egg mixture 250 milliliters of milk and the same quantity of cream. Leave this mixture to stand at room temperature. Carefully, roll out the pastry on a floured surface and with the same care and precision place the pastry into a buttered and floured tart tin. Cook the pastry blind at 180 Celsius for about thirty minutes. It is important to make sure there are no tears in the pastry prior to baking because you will be pouring a very liquid custard mix into the cooked pastry case. Taking the pastry case out of the oven, I let it cool for a short period before taking the parchment, and weights or chickpeas, from the case. To firm up the pastry I brush it with a little egg wash and put it back into the oven for a few minutes.

 
Once satisfied the case is not broken or torn, reduce the temperature of the oven to 160 Celsius and return the pastry case to the oven. I find it easier to pour in the custard mix at this point rather than going on a shaky adventure through the kitchen accompanied by frequent spillages. Cook the custard and the case for 45 minutes, or until the custard has a gentle wobble when you gently nudge the pastry tin. When cooked remove the tart from the oven and allow it to cool. Thereafter, gently spread and dot the the surface of the baked custard with the cooked berries. Then spoon the remaining berries and juice on top of the tart. To complete the experience, find a French person, preferably in a good humour, and serve them a slice of this tart with sweetened whipped cream and a cool glass of chardonnay from Arbois, Franche Comté.

An excellent end to the day

Corinne is leafing through a cook book now and has suggested that she would like grenouilles á la creme for dinner at some stage. I guess it is back to the bog for me next week!