Every autumn, the rowans along the lane turn heavy with orange-red berries, and every autumn somebody asks me the same question: what on earth do you do with them? The usual answer is jelly — that clear scarlet preserve spooned alongside venison, lamb and game. But if you want something with more body, more spice and a sharper edge, the berries make a magnificent chutney: dark, sweet-sour, faintly bitter in the way good marmalade is bitter, and made for a wedge of mature Cheddar or a slice of cold roast pork.

The Rowan in British Woodland Lore

The rowan — Sorbus aucuparia — is known as the mountain ash, though it is no relation of the ash at all. In the Highlands it is caorann; in older English, the witchen tree, witch wood or quickbeam. It carries more protective folklore than almost any other British tree. A rowan was planted by the cottage door and the byre to keep ill luck and malevolent visitors out, and two twigs crossed and bound with red thread were sewn into a coat or hung above a cradle. Herdsmen in the north drove cattle through a hoop of rowan before taking them to the summer shielings, and in many accounts the tree was never cut with a knife. Plenty of crofts still have one standing by the gate, and I like to think the custom is sound practical advice as much as superstition: the berries feed redwings and fieldfares all winter, and the tree shelters everything beneath it.

Picking Rowan Berries Well

Rowan is one of the kinder trees for a beginner, because nothing else in Britain looks much like it. Check the whole tree before you pick:

• Leaves: pinnate, with five to eight pairs of narrow leaflets plus a single one at the tip, each with a serrated edge.
• Bark: smooth, grey-brown and often marked with horizontal lenticels, especially on younger wood.
• Berries: small, bright orange-red, hanging in heavy flat-topped clusters. Turn one over and you will find a small five-pointed star at its base — a reliable detail.
• Where: woodland edges, moorland, hedgerows and churchyards, often on poor acid ground. It is happiest at altitude.

Berry time runs from late August into October, sometimes later in the north. Frost is supposed to sweeten them, but a British frost is unreliable; pick when they are fully coloured and freeze them at home for a week or two instead. Never strip a tree — take a cluster here and there and leave the rest for the birds. Avoid busy roadside hedges and anything that might have been sprayed, and only pick where you have the landowner's permission. Never uproot a rowan.

Taming the Berries

Raw rowan berries contain parasorbic acid, which can leave you with a griping stomach ache. Heat converts it to harmless sorbic acid, so every rowan recipe involves cooking — no nibbling from the basket. Cooked with vinegar and sugar, as here, the berries keep their pleasant slight bitterness and give the chutney its deep rust-red colour and a sourness that cuts beautifully through fat.

If you dislike the pips, simmer the berries first and rub the pulp through a sieve; the small hard stones and skins will stay behind. Otherwise leave them in and accept the texture — traditional rowan jelly makers use a muslin bag for the same reason.

Rowan Berry Chutney

This makes four to five jars of about 300 ml. Use a heavy-based preserving pan and a long wooden spoon.

• 500 g rowan berries, stripped from their stalks
• 500 g Bramley apples, peeled, cored and chopped
• 250 g onions, finely chopped
• 150 g raisins or sultanas
• 350 g light muscovado sugar
• 500 ml cider vinegar
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp ground ginger, 1 tsp ground allspice, ½ tsp ground cinnamon, ¼ tsp ground cloves

• Soften the berries. Put them in the pan with 100 ml water, bring to a simmer and cook for ten minutes until they collapse.
• Add everything else. Tip in the apples, onions, raisins, sugar, vinegar, salt and spices and stir well.
• Simmer gently. Cook uncovered for 45 to 60 minutes, stirring often, until thick. It is ready when a spoon drawn through leaves a clean channel that fills slowly.
• Pot up. Ladle into warm, sterilised jars with vinegar-proof lids, filling to within 1 cm of the rim. Seal and label with the date.

Chutney needs a rest to come together — leave it at least a month, ideally three, in a cool dark cupboard. It will keep for a year or more unopened; once opened, keep it in the fridge.

The Craft of the Preserving Shelf

Preserving is a traditional craft in its own right, and rowan chutney is a good excuse to practise it properly. Sterilise jars in a low oven or by running them through a dishwasher cycle and filling them while still hot. Cut waxed paper discs to sit directly on the chutney, then cover the jars with squares of cotton or linen tied with raffia or string, and write the contents and date on a paper label in ink. Beyond the kitchen, rowan wood itself is a fine craft material: hard, pale and close-grained, it takes a good polish and has long been used for tool handles, walking sticks, spindles and pegs. Take wood only with permission, and never from a tree you would rather see standing.

What to Serve It With

This is a cheese chutney first and foremost. Try it with mature Cheddar, Stilton or a crumbly sheep's cheese, or on a ploughman's plate with pickled onions and good bread. It is equally at home with cold roast lamb, baked ham, pork pie, sausage rolls, game pie and the last of the Christmas goose. A spoonful stirred into gravy for venison or duck adds depth and a welcome sour note. Make a batch this autumn and the rowan will earn its place by your door all over again.