A Mulberry Tree on the Hudson!

photo by ana traina ~ 2012 ~

Yesterday, I was fortunate enough to take an impromptu bicycle ride with my friend Martine up the Riverside Bike Path.  However, it was a bit bumpy before I even got started, since my inner tire imploded and I had to run lickety-split to my local bike shop, which was several long blocks away, to get my inner tube replaced before I could continue on to the Little Red Lighthouse.  Needless to say, Martine was very, very, patient.  On the ride home from the light house, late for a dinner appointment, I found two lovely women picking mulberries: their names were Elaine and Norely.  This scene reminded me of something out of a Jane Austen or Elisabeth Gaskell novel.  Seeing these two ladies, even though I was incredibly late, I had to stop and take a picture.  As you remember zingertalers, last year I discovered mulberries in central park.  Silly as it may sound, discovering mulberries on the Hudson was like a small miracle, or wonder to me.  Reflecting back, after seeing a double rainbow, receiving a picture of a leprechaun in his backyard, and finding mulberries, it seems to have been a very lucky week indeed.  

I've enclosed an ancient recipe for mulberry wine, that even the good ladies of Cranford would envy.  

 MULBERRY WINE RECIPE
On a dry day gather mulberries, when they are just changing from redness to a shining black; spread them thinly on a fine cloth, or on a floor or table for twenty-four hours, and then press them. Boil a gallon of water with each gallon of juice, putting to every gallon of water one ounce of cinnamon bark and six ounces of sugar candy finely powdered. Skim and strain the water when it is taken off and settled, and put in the mulberry juice. Now add to every gallon of the mixture one pint of white or Rhenish wine. Let the whole stand in a cask to ferment for five or six days. When settled drain it off into bottles and keep cool.

 For more zingerlicious lore on Mulberries, please see my blog ~ the mulberries of central park.