I have had this inane song going through my head since the day I came across a recipe for wheat berry pilaf that called for juniper berries. Juniper berries; where was I going to find those? Was I going to have to go foraging in the forest?

            Although the Juniper genus is probably the most common group of coniferous shrubs and trees growing throughout the world, with over 50 species and cultivars, they generally prefer growing at higher altitudes, something we definitely are not here on Gabriola. The majority of juniper found growing here would likely be in someone’s yard, purchased at a nursery. They are a favourite of landscapers because they love lousy soil and don’t require a lot of watering.

            From prehistoric times, the juniper has been an important source of fuel, food, and medicine for many cultures. The “berry” of the plant is not a true berry but the cone. It takes two to three years to ripen when it turns a blue-black colour and looks somewhat like a blueberry. It contains as many as 30 essential oils and active ingredients.

            Extracted oils of the berry as well as tisanes made from the whole berry have been used to cure everything from kidney stones to psoriasis. Gout, rheumatism, arthritis, flatulence, and unwanted pregnancies are just some of the conditions the berry was once used to treat. Topically, it was also used as an antiseptic and astringent. This tradition is carried on today in many folk remedies.

            The berry was also used to preserve meats, and it is still used as flavouring for wild game such as venison, boar, duck, and pheasant. You will find it a common flavouring in the game stews, pâtés, and terrines of the mountainous countries of Europe, such as Hungary and Germany, where stronger flavoured meats (and hunting) are more popular. Europeans also produce beer and liqueurs flavoured with the berry. And sauerkraut wouldn’t be sauerkraut without juniper.

            The best way for me to describe the aroma of the berry is to have you imagine you are sipping on a gin and tonic. The word “gin” comes from the French word genièvre, which means juniper. In its most basic form, gin is a grain alcohol infused with the extract of juniper berries.  If you examine the label of a Gordon’s gin bottle, you will see that the design is a garland of juniper branches and berries.

Of course, each manufacturer of gin has many other secret herbal ingredients that may include coriander, anise and cinnamon.  

While all juniper trees at some time produce berries, they will vary somewhat in flavour and concentration of the aromatic compounds. The most commercially used juniper is J. communis, the most common of all native junipers world-wide. Here in western Canada, it is more likely to be found growing closer to the Rocky Mountains.

            But before you think of going out and playing Ayla from Clan of the Cave Bears, juniper does come with some serious warnings. The same components that lend to its medicinal value, in excess, can cause illness. Because it affects the kidneys and uterus, use of the purified extracts or tisanes are not recommended for anyone with renal disease or who is pregnant. It also, with prolonged use, can cause gastro-intestinal damage.

            Cooking with a few whole berries once in awhile is not going to kill you, but will give you a refreshing, new flavour. Grains and sauces are easily flavoured by the addition of only a few, slightly crushed berries. Because they are such an intense flavour, always use them sparingly. The berries also make an interesting addition to a bouquet garni; the flavour combining well with rosemary and thyme. Recently, we served a halibut dinner with juniper berries combined with peppercorns in the dry rub.

            I seem to keep finding new recipes that use juniper, especially around Easter when I was looking for lamb recipes. I have one recipe for a fennel and juniper salad that I can’t wait to try. I wonder how gin might taste in a marinade?

            Now, if I could only get that annoying song out of my head, I’d be content.