The Hunter-Gatherer Gene

From my mother's side, my brother and I inherited the hunter-gatherer gene. We can't resist gleaning from nature the gifts she offers. Holmes, for example, picks gallons of black cap raspberries that grow wild along the railroad tracks every July. We both love too hunt morel mushrooms in the spring and gather black walnuts in the fall. The gene runs stronger in him; he also hunts game and fishes - for food, not sport.

Years of living with me have imbued Dennis with some of hunter-gatherer spirit. On his way to the parking lot on Monday he took a short-cut across the Potter's Lake green space and came upon three large Dolgo crabapple trees, hanging heavy with ripe fruit. He pocketed several apples to show me and we ended up driving back to campus that evening to glean some of the fruit.


The next morning Dennis cut off the blossom and stem ends of the apples, put them in a kettle with plenty of water, and set them to cook. Ten minutes at a low boil and they were ready for the jelly bag. That strains out all solid particles so the jelly will be clear.

The juice is loaded with pectin, and quickly gels when cooked with sugar at high heat. I make this jelly as much for its ruby color as for its taste.


But sunlight falling through the jelly changes it to a different gem, one whose name I don't know.



We plan to give some of these jars away at Christmas. Drop a hint to get on the list. And if you hurry, you can glean some apples for yourself. The trees are still weighted down with fruit.