When my brother and his fiancé first asked me to make the cake for their July wedding, I knew instantly it would involve black caps. My first thought was actually “Perfect! That’s peak black cap season!” Luckily, when I sat down with them to consult on what their wedding cake would be, they favored a dark chocolate and raspberry flavor profile so when I let them know that wild black raspberries would be in season at that time of year, they easily agreed to my suggestion. A local ingredient, picked by hand from the very land where the wedding was going to take place, what a unique and beautiful way to celebrate their love.

I wanted to use black caps initially because they are one of my favorite ingredients. They are such a special flavor that I love sharing with people. In the weeks before the wedding, as I spent hours at a time picking them, it occurred to me that this ingredient was the perfect choice for a more poetic reason, too. After all, my brother is a writer, so I better come up with a good metaphor to share with him and his wife. So, come along with me as I describe the process of picking these berries, and the metaphor will unfold.

Black caps, or wild black raspberries, are a wild native crop. Part of what makes them so special is that they cannot be cultivated, they can only be foraged. Since they cannot intentionally be grown, you have to know where they like to grow and find them. They love growing on the edges of forests, because they need plenty of both sun and shade. They grow in brambles, thick bushes full of thorns, and they fruit during July, at one of the hottest points of the summer.  The juicier berries are found deeper into the bramble where they are more protected from animals who eat them. So, to pick these berries, you have to be willing to be out in temperatures upwards of 85 degrees in long sleeves, long pants, and tall socks to stay protected from the thorns. It is hot, sweaty, and not very comfortable; but the flavor is so worth it. I have a mantra that I repeat to myself while picking, “Do It For The Black Caps”. So even when I emerge from the bramble onto a wasps’ nest and get stung three times, I keep picking. Do It For The Black Caps. When the birds start screaming and swooping because I’ve accidentally gotten too close to their nest, I swerve but keep picking. Do It For The Black Caps.

Despite all this discomfort, I love picking these berries. For me, it is a meditative practice. Because when I go into the bramble, it’s like my own escape from this world where I lose track of all space and time and my sole focus is negotiating with nature to get the berries and capture that special flavor. I don’t take my phone with me, or a watch. I emerge from the bramble, and I have to take a few minutes to get my bearings and figure out where I am exactly because I’ve traveled a great distance twisting through those thorns without realizing it. Over an hour has gone by – and my mind was at peace.

The berry plants are recognizable at a distance because of this arching green branch that emerges from the base of the branch with the berries. That arching branch is actually next year’s growth. As you pick, you must be mindful and protective of next year’s growth or you will trample the very plant you could get berries from the following year. You have to be willing to confront whatever obstacles nature might throw at you, whether it’s wasps or birds protecting their nests. You have to be willing to endure the scrapes and cuts from the thorns and the oppressive heat and buzzing mosquitos. But you do it all for the black caps.

I don’t have much experience with love, so that wasn’t something I could really speak to when toasting my brother and his bride. But I have a lot of experience picking black caps. And as I was picking the berries for their wedding cake, I thought how I could easily trade out “black caps” for “love”. When you’re looking for a life partner, you’re looking for someone who’s willing to go into the bramble with you. Someone who is willing to endure the thorns and the mosquitos and the heat because they want that same flavor you’re chasing. Do It For The Black Caps. Do it for love. And as you build that life together, you have to be mindful and protective of the new growth that emerges in one another. Do it for love. You have to confront the wasps’ nests or whatever obstacles life throws at you, together. Do it for love. And, maybe, you lose yourself in the bramble with your partner and find that escape from the world whenever you need it.

Congratulations, Joe and Ash, on your commitment to do it for the black caps, to do it for love.