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The black raspberry is a fickle thing. Seedy, highly susceptible to pests and cursed by an extremely short growing season, the berry has little going for it – except its intense flavor. Unfortunately, that flavor is almost ineffable. Ask anyone, even those who love the berry most, what it tastes like and the first thing you hear is silence.
Take Joy Frank. She’s been eating black raspberries off bushes her whole life. “I call them nature’s candy,” says Frank, who grew up on Frank Farms in Berrien Center, Mich., which grows 30 acres of black raspberries. Frank is now 33 years old and has a degree from Michigan State University in agriculture, but ask her about the taste of black raspberries and she’s at a loss for words.

“It’s hard to describe,” she says.
Even chefs have trouble articulating it. Bruce Sherman runs the kitchen at Chicago’s North Pond restaurant, where he’s celebrated for supporting local farmers. When black raspberries are in season in July, Sherman shows no restraint.
“We feature them in whatever we’re doing,” he says.
But ask Sherman what exactly the berry tastes like and he’s stumped.
“Oh, boy.”
Pause.
Then Sherman nails it: “It’s a little heartier, a little bolder flavor than a red raspberry.”
That may not sound like much, but the richness – the delicacy and sweetness of a red raspberry, with an extra depth of flavor – hooks berry fanatics hard.
“It’s my favorite berry that we grow on the farm,” Frank says.
Often confused with blackberries or lumped in with red raspberries, the black raspberry is a different species from both and rarer than either. Indigenous to the eastern United States, the berry, also known as a blackcap, is grown throughout southwest Michigan. The berries would be far more common if they were any easier to grow: The plants usually die within a few years, victims of viruses. If they somehow survive, their productivity decreases dramatically. (Also, they stain indelibly: For years, the USDA stamp for meat was made with black raspberry dye.) In addition, their harvest is as brief as any Michigan crop. The thorny bushes begin to bear fruit shortly after July 1, and quit just a couple weeks later.
“It’s a very short crop,” says Mick Klug, who grows black raspberries in St. Joseph, Mich., selling at Chicago farmers’ markets and restaurants. “We get people that just love them to death, but what’s bad for us is that if the first crop is on a Monday, we may only get them to one Saturday farmers’ market.”
Once you have the berries, Klug says, “treat them like gold. Lay them out on a cookie sheet with a paper towel under them to soak up the moisture, so they don’t mold.”
To lengthen the season, Frank Farms freezes the berries for shipping. The buyers are primarily people who grew up eating black raspberries on farms, “but now they can’t find any,” Frank says. There may be a new demographic interested soon. Scientists at Ohio State University recently demonstrated that they have powerful cancer fighting properties, especially for colon and esophageal cancer.
Black raspberry wine may or may not have the same effect, but if you’d like to test it, call Contessa Wine Cellars in Coloma, Mich., for their popular dry black raspberry wine. Each wine is jammed with local berries: a single Contessa bottle holds more than four pounds of black raspberries.
If you’re smart, you’ll save it for the off-season.
Black Raspberry Cobbler
2½ cups black raspberries
²?³ cup sugar
1½ cups flour
1 Tbsp. baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 stick plus 2 Tbsp. unsalted butter
½ cup heavy cream
Place black raspberries in a buttered, 8x8 shallow baking dish and sprinkle with ¹?³ cup of sugar. • In a food processor combine flour, baking powder and salt. • Add the stick of butter in pieces and pulse to create a lumpy mixture. • Add cream and pulse until dough forms. Dough will be soft and sticky like a biscuit; if needed add a splash more cream. • Spoon dough over black raspberries. Melt remaining 2 tablespoons butter and drizzle over dough. Sprinkle with remaining ¹?³ cup sugar. • Bake in a 350° oven about 30 to 40 minutes or until dough and fruit are cooked through and dough is lightly browned.
• Serve with whipped cream. Serves 6-8.
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