Why I'll Try to Overcome My Prejudices Against Gooseberries

This spring I rescued two gooseberry bushes that were struggling to survive in the shade of not one but six closely planted trees. I won't get any berries this year, since it will take at least one season for them to recover, but I do admit I'm not waiting with great anticipation. People rave about gooseberries, but I've never eaten a tasty one yet.

To be fair, I have to admit that I've only eaten a few gooseberries, and it was many years ago in my grandfather's back yard. The berries were sour, and if you looked closely enough you could see a tiny worm living inside. Vicious thorns protected these hard, green fruits, and left my brother and I bleeding. It was enough to put me off gooseberries for a long time. I've since learned, of course, that the berries we ate from those sharp little bushes were completely unripe, and my grandfather, who had a biting sense of humor, probably thought he was making a joke when he encouraged us to try them.

As I become more and more committed to edible landscaping, I'm hoping to change my long-held prejudices against this fruit. It is wildly popular in Europe, or so I'm told. Nursery catalogs rave about the large size and sweetness of their cultivars, and I'm almost convinced. I'll be taking good care of my two bushes, at least until I have a chance to find out if the berries are the large sweet kind that look so appealing in the advertisements.

All members of the Ribes family, were once restricted because it was believed that they contributed to the white pine blister rust that was killing these economically important trees. The federal ban was lifted in 1966, and I was unable to find any mention of a ban in my state when I did a search on the Internet. I also know that Oregon nurseries sell many different Ribes, including gooseberries and currants. However, it pays to check with your state's agricultural extension agent before you purchase the plants, in case your state still outlaws these backyard fruits.

Gooseberry bushes can tolerate some shade, (but not total shade, as my bushes will attest), and may grow and produce better if they have some protection from the hot sun. My plants are now on the eastern side of the house, where they will be shaded during the hottest part of the day. If they weren't so sharp, I might have planted them on the north side of my house, near the walkway to my back door.

They don't need to be heavily fertilized, but they do require a good amount of potassium, which my plants will be getting from their two-inch mulch of comfrey leaves. The mulch also keeps their roots moist and cool, which they prefer.

With all this special care, I'm hoping that mildew won't be a problem for my plants. Since I live in an area with hot, dry summers, and the plants have plenty of space for good air circulation, it shouldn't be a problem. Many gooseberry cultivars have been specially selected for resistance to mildew, so I might be able to replace my plants with one of these named varieties if my bushes don't grow well. American gooseberries are less bothered by mildew than the European varieties, and there are hundreds of different varieties to choose from, so finding a replacement, if I need to, should not be difficult.

The bush I transplanted late in the spring was from its previous location under the apple tree was hit hard by insects, which stripped it of most of it's leaves. It has now recovered, however. The currantworm appears to be the most likely culprit. Since the bush was stressed from being moved, and its sister bush was not affected by the insects at all, I doubt this will be a problem in coming years.

Of more interest to me will be controlling the gooseberry fruitworm, that little critter that my brother and I found inside my grandfather's berries. This caterpillar burrows down into the fruits just before they ripen. Since an organic spray made from the bacterium Bacillus thurengiensis is available, I should be able to harvest worm-free berries next year. Then I will find out if I can overcome my old prejudices against this humble, hardy fruit.