Art and the Bilberry Pie

It is a truism that great art demands not only great imagination but also preparation and attention to detail.

Michaelangelo, so it is said, devoted much time to appraising the blocks of marble in the quarries of Carrara in Tuscany before his masterpieces took shape in his imagination.

So it’s appropriate that those who contemplate baking a pie in August should first stake out the moors in April. The hours spent observing and simultaneously nourishing the imagination are vital for the creative process to flourish. An experienced piesmith will already have some idea where to find the myriads of small red flowers typical of early spring on Blacka.

Even so, this is no guarantee of a crop in the exact location after midsummer. The flowers are essential but just as important are the bees, hoverflies and other small winged pollinators. And they only work at their best in ideal conditions, which are an absence of wind, rain and cold. If any of these prevail for a length of time they will do what we all do, stick to sheltered parts. The result may be that all the more exposed flowers go for naught. This year that did not happen and a good harvest materialised.

The conscientious practitioner of the pie-making art will make regular inspections during the growing and maturing season noting the appearance of good numbers of near-hidden green berries. These berries should be clearly visible come late June when closer to final colour. A taster will tell you that they are not yet at their best and sweetest. That will come in most years at the end of July.

Should there be any difficulty finding berries in an indifferent year, look down near the ground and try taking some of the bracken out; bracken only comes through after the bilberries have flowered and the fruit has set so it might be covering the best fruit.

Picking bilberries was always a labour of love. The smallness of the berries and the nuisance of the midges and flies if you stayed in one place for more than a couple of minutes meant that only the most determined bilberry lovers ever managed to gather enough for a medium sized pie even in a good year. But that was before this device became generally available.

It’s simplicity itself but worth more to some of us than many an item of fashionable technology. The berries are scooped up and remain in the well prevented from spilling out by a ridge which means you can go on collecting. Once the trick is mastered you can gather a good supply and be off the moor before the local midges have sent for reinforcements.

While this accelerates the harvesting quite a bit of work needs to be done in the kitchen. Amongst the berries there will be various dead leaves, bits of fern, a sample or two of the flies and other biodiversity and some unripe fruit. The fruit may also be wet if you’ve harvested early. Some find this stage rather boring and onerous. All I can do is describe my own procedure: I tip the fruit etc onto a tray covered with kitchen towels and allow to dry out.

After an hour or so separate the berries from the unwanted matter.

The sorting takes a while but is better sitting comfortably at the kitchen table than bending over in wet vegetation on the moor being attacked by midges. And it can be a pleasantly satisfying activity, if you remember to put on a CD: experience suggests it takes just 13 minutes 42 seconds which is exactly the time taken on a recording of Bach’s Chaconne for solo violin. Art comes into every stage of the process. Alternatively try Burl Ives singing “I don’t know why she swallowed a fly …” which will have to be played through two and a half times – not quite so appropriate unless you've, well … 

If freezing the fruit don’t wash it first.
 
As for the recipe, most people use a mix of apple and fruit and most also have their own way with a fruit pie, though, like all artists it pays to experiment before settling on what works.

Pastry making is for those who take the art very seriously. It’s worth it but it’s extra work. Some will remind us that Michaelangelo didn’t make his own marble and many of us today use pastry from the chilled cabinet in the supermarket.

That leaves more time for  pastry decoration, and that's where we move back from the Renaissance to the Gothic. There are tremendous artistic opportunities here, from bosses and corbels, even fan vaulting and grimacing gargoyles.

It's disappointing I can't illustrate with an example of the Decorated style of the Gothic. That shown here here lacks the necessary flare to make an impact on posterity.

But I swear it tasted good. Which is more than can be said for David from Florence.