Berries & Currants

The whole point of berries, for me, is in them not making it back to the kitchen. It’s a schizophrenic tussle between knowing what you need for pud and giving in to the greater urge.

When young and like the cunning blackbird, I would quietly sneak under the fruit nets and into paradise, only to find my brother already there, infuriatingly red-chinned and gorged. Competitive feasting ensued. Then suddenly the wall’s door latch would click and we would drop to the ground, holding our breath, with hearts beating like the now-frantic blackbirds trying to flap their way out of prison.