A Hedgerow Harvest for the Shortest Days

There is a particular pleasure in a tin of shortbread that began life in a hedgerow. By late October, the hazel bushes along our lanes have shed their leaves, and the hips on the dog roses have turned a deep, glowing scarlet. Both are at their best now, and both happen to make a wonderful partnership with butter and sugar.

This is a two-part forage that rewards a little patience. The nuts need drying and roasting before they can be ground into a coarse, sweet-scented flour. The hips need simmering and straining into a syrup the colour of old amber. Neither is difficult, but both take an afternoon — the sort of slow kitchen work that suits a grey Sunday.

Finding and Drying Hazel Cobs

Hazel (Corylus avellana) is one of our commonest hedgerow shrubs, recognisable by its rounded, double-toothed leaves and the papery, fringed husks that hold the nuts in clusters of two or three. The nuts themselves sit inside a husk that is roughly as long as the nut, which distinguishes our native hazel from the longer-husked filbert grown in gardens.

Gather from late September through October, before the squirrels finish the job — and when you find a good bush, expect to lose most of the crop to them. Check the nuts are ripe by shaking one; if the kernel rattles, it is ready. A small proportion will be "blanks" with nothing inside, so do not be disheartened when you crack a few empties.

• Where to look: sunny hedgerow edges, coppiced woodland and old boundaries. Nuts ripen best on the south-facing side.
• How to gather: pick the clusters by hand or shake the branch gently over a basket. Avoid bruised or holed nuts — these have weevil grubs inside.
• Ask first: never forage on a Site of Special Scientific Interest without permission, and always seek the landowner's consent on private ground.

At home, spread the cobs in a single layer on a tray in a dry, airy room for two to three weeks, turning them every few days. When the husks are brittle and pull away easily, they are dry enough to store in a cotton bag. To roast, spread the shelled kernels on a baking tray and give them 10–12 minutes at 160°C fan, shaking once, until fragrant and just colouring. Tip them into a clean tea towel and rub off the bitter papery skins while warm.

Rosehip Syrup: A Slow, Sticky Business

Rosehips are best picked after the first proper frost, though a spell in the freezer overnight does the same job of softening them. Dog rose hips are smaller and sweeter than the fat, round hips of Japanese rose, but either will work. Take only from clean hedges well away from busy roads, and leave the higher hips for the fieldfares and redwings.

A note of caution: the fine hairs inside rosehips are a notorious irritant. Never blitz them raw, and handle the pulp with care — the old advice to strain through muslin is sound.

• Roughly chop 500g hips and simmer in 1.2 litres water for 15 minutes until soft.
• Mash lightly, then strain through a double layer of muslin over a bowl for several hours — do not squeeze, or the syrup will cloud.
• Measure the liquid, return it to the pan with 500g sugar per 500ml, and simmer for 8–10 minutes until slightly thickened.
• Bottle hot into sterilised bottles. It keeps for months in a cool cupboard, or a year in the fridge.

The result is a thick, floral syrup that is lovely on porridge, stirred into yoghurt, or drizzled over ice cream. In this recipe it replaces some of the sugar and brings a faint, fruity sharpness that stops the shortbread being cloying.

Bringing It Together: The Shortbread

Grind your roasted kernels in a small processor in short pulses — stop while the texture is still like coarse sand, as overworking releases oil and turns it to paste. You want about 100g of ground hazelnut for the quantities below.

• 200g plain flour
• 100g ground roasted hazelnuts
• 200g cold unsalted butter, cubed
• 60g caster sugar, plus extra for dusting
• 3 tbsp rosehip syrup
• A good pinch of fine sea salt

Rub the butter into the flour, ground nuts, sugar and salt until it resembles fine breadcrumbs, or pulse it briefly in a processor. Add the syrup and bring the mixture together into a firm dough — it will look crumbly at first, then suddenly hold. Shape into a disc, wrap in greaseproof paper and chill for at least 30 minutes; this firms the butter and keeps the biscuits from spreading.

Baking, Cutting and Storing

Roll or press the dough into a roughly 1cm-thick round on a lined baking tray, prick all over with a fork, and crimp the edges with your fingers. Bake at 160°C fan (180°C conventional, gas 4) for 20–25 minutes, until pale gold at the edges and barely coloured in the middle.

Cut into fingers while still warm and soft, then leave to cool completely on the tray — shortbread is fragile straight from the oven and firms as it sits. Dust with caster sugar and store in an airtight tin, layered with greaseproof paper. It is at its best after a day, and comfortably keeps for a fortnight.

Leave Some for the Wildlife

Dormice, wood mice and jays all depend on the hazel crop, and a bush stripped bare helps nobody. Take a modest share, never more than a third from any one stand, and leave the sloes, haws and hips on the outer branches for the winter thrushes. The hedgerow gives generously — but only to those who take a little and come back next year.