Hedgerow Harvest: Foraging Rosehips for Syrups and Teas
A Hedgerow Full of Folklore
By the middle of September, the dog roses that frothed pink and white along the lane in June have given up their last petals and turned, quietly, to scarlet. Rosehips hang in the hawthorn and blackthorn like tiny lanterns, and every country child who ever played a conker-and-hip game knows the shine of them. Our grandmothers knew rather more: an abundance of hips and haws was said to foretell a hard winter, and roses were the shrubs fairies were fondest of — wise walkers offered a word of greeting before cutting. Whether or not you hold with that, a basket of rosehips in autumn is one of the small, reliable pleasures of country living.
They are also, gram for gram, one of the richest sources of vitamin C in the British hedgerow. During the Second World War, when citrus was almost impossible to import, the Ministry of Food encouraged the country to gather hips by the ton and children were given rosehip syrup free at clinics. It is worth making a bottle or two for the same reason now: it is a warming, tangy winter standby for coughs and colds, and it costs nothing but an afternoon.
When to Pick, and Which Hips to Choose
The season runs from late August through to the first proper frosts of November, and long before that many hips are soft, orange and past their best. Aim for hips that are deep red, firm, and slightly glossy — shrunken or wrinkled ones have lost their goodness. The dog rose (Rosa canina) gives the classic oval hip with a little tuft of dried sepals at the tip; the field rose (Rosa arvensis) carries rounder hips with those sepals still firmly attached. Sweet briar (Rosa rubiginosa), if you find it, smells of apples on a damp day and its hips are perfectly usable.
Take only from hedges you can identify with certainty. Hawthorn haws are smaller, darker and single-stoned; guelder rose berries are translucent and slightly toxic raw; yew berries are deadly. A hedgerow is not the place for a lucky guess. Choose a clean site too — quiet lanes well away from traffic, and never a verge you suspect has been sprayed.
A Little Hedgerow Etiquette
- Picking a few hips for your own kitchen from a generous hedge is generally considered fine; digging up plants, taking cuttings or foraging on a protected site without permission is not.
- Leave at least half the crop. Fieldfares, redwings, waxwings and wood mice depend on hips and haws to get through the lean months.
- Ask before you pick on private land, and close every gate you open.
- Wear gloves, and keep a paper bag rather than a plastic one so the hips do not sweat and spoil.
Dealing with the Itchy Hairs
Inside every hip sits a cluster of hard seeds wrapped in fine, bristly hairs. These are a mechanical irritant — the old-fashioned itching powder of the school playground was made from exactly this — and they will make your hands, and heaven help you your eyes, thoroughly miserable. Treat them with respect. Work outdoors or over a sink, wear thin gardening gloves, and never rub your face mid-job.
Top and tail each hip with a small knife, cut it in half lengthways, and scrape out the seeds and hairs with the tip of the blade or a teaspoon. Do this in a bowl of water if you like, which keeps the hairs from flying about. For syrup, however, there is no need to be so fussy — you can simply chop the whole hips roughly and strain everything through muslin later, which catches every last hair.
Making Rosehip Syrup
Roughly chop 500g of hips and put them in a pan with 1.5 litres of water. Bring slowly to a gentle simmer and cook for fifteen minutes, no more. Take off the heat, cover, and leave to steep overnight. Next morning, strain through a double layer of muslin or a jelly bag — do not squeeze, or the syrup will turn cloudy.
Keep the pulp, return it to the pan with another litre of water, simmer fifteen minutes, and strain again. Combine both lots of liquid, reduce it gently by about half, then add 250g of sugar for every 500ml of liquid. Stir over a low heat until dissolved, boil for two or three minutes, and pour into sterilised bottles while hot. It keeps for a year in a cool, dark cupboard; once opened, keep it in the fridge.
Tea, and Keeping Your Harvest
For tea, dry deseeded hips in a warm, airy place or on the lowest oven setting until they rattle, then store in dark jars — vitamin C dislikes light as much as heat. Steep a heaped teaspoon per mug in water just off the boil for eight to ten minutes. A slice of dried orange, a clove or a pinch of cinnamon all sit well with it, and a spoonful of your syrup stirred in turns it into something properly comforting.
Pick a few more than you need, dry them well, and you will have hedgerow medicine on the shelf long after the last leaf has gone.













Folklore
Karla Gleichauf
12 May 2017 at 05:28 pm
On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment
M Shyamalan
12 May 2017 at 05:28 pm
On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment
Liz Montano
12 May 2017 at 05:28 pm
On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment