First of all, just LOOK at what I found in my backyard:
Black raspberries! No shit. Not a lot of them. Just one vine growing out of a rock wall right next to another thorny stem that appeared to have been hacked off by somebody at some point in the past. And I bet that somebody was me. Oh, foolish girl. If only we had half a sense of what we were doing 50% of the time.
So, Smart-People-Who-Know-About-Black-Raspberries, I ask you. How do you propagate these wild things? Can I just chew up the berries and spit them out all over my yard? Or do I have to more closely mimic what birds do? Speak slowly and use very small words.
As for the black raspberries I picked before, those that didn’t end up in the buckle were combined with some strawberries that were past their prime to make preserves. You’ll be glad to note that I didn’t use gelatin this time. I didn’t even use pectin. I just relied on the fruits’ natural gelling properties using my great grandmother's basic technique. And how did it come out? It tastes divine. Truly. I’m not a huge fan of strawberry jam (too sweet), but the raspberries added such a pleasing tartness and improved the color greatly. Just look at its garnet hue:
Actually, it was more purplish in real life. For once the camera improved its subject. The jam still came out too thick for my taste, though. Twenty minutes of boiling was too long in this case. But you can still get it on toast with some muscle, and it’ll make a kick-ass filling for thumbprint cookies.
So that’s it. If you want to hear more about black raspberries, you’ll have to go elsewhere.