Consider the gooseberry. It is one of those fruits about which I get obsessed when it's season is upon us. Which is now. High summer. Whenever I see them at the market or in the store, I feel compelled to buy them, no matter how many I may already have at home. I've made a gooseberry and elderflower trifle this season, which wasn't a huge success, but now that I've got that failure under my belt I have a much better idea of how to do a gooseberry trifle next time, which I hope will be rather soon. I've also made a gooseberry and elderflower cheesecake, a gooseberry crumble, and a Beatrix Potter recipe for gooseberry sauce to go with trout, none of which were particularly fantastic but at least I'm getting gooseberries out of my system. Or, into my system, I suppose.

However, today, finally, was a success story with gooseberries. I made gooseberry chutney, and it is truly a wonderous creation. I found a very simple recipe, and when it comes to chutney, I think the more simple, the better. The last thing you want is onions and courgettes and sultanas and apples all competing for your attention in a gooseberry chutney. So, the recipe I followed was something like

700 grams gooseberries

150 grams onions

300 mls cider vinegar

275 grams light brown sugar

9 grams salt

2 teaspoons ginger


I threw it all in a pot and let it simmer for about and hour and a half, until it was reduced to something quite thick. It has a lovely tanginess as well as a sweetness which comes through despite the strong taste of vinegar which you have in any chutney. I think it's important to use light vinegar and light brown sugar with something like gooseberries, because you don't want a dark sticky chutney made with this fruit - what would be the point? It would just mask the delicate tanginess, which is what makes this chutney so special.

After it was all packed, sealed away in jars, and cooled, I made the ultimate English snack: gooseberry chutney with lavender cheese on an oatcake. Even my thirteen year old liked it, although she did ask for a drink afterwards. (Her verdict on the cheese was: 'I don't like it as much as the lavender jelly we had at Easter or the lavender and raspberry jam we made last year'. To which I responded: 'Or the lavender shortbread we made last year.').