Hey BrainGlutton, mulberries are edible! 
I have several enormous mulberry trees, and dozens of smaller ones. Every year I claim I am going to make wine out of them, maybe this will be the year I finally do it.
Um…am I the only one who has white mulberries, not purple? I’ve never seen purple mulberries here in SoCal.
Nice to see my thread is becoming a tradition! 
My dogs and I had been enjoying a bounty of mulberries this year… 4 trees have become 5, anf that 5th one is an over-achiever. TONS of fruit! MMMMMM…
See, the mulberries I’m used to look like this.
Kinda like silkworm grubs, actually - probably encourages the birds to eat 'em, but it didn’t occur to me to try them till my landlady told me they were edible*. She was right!**
*and a great cure for constipation
** on both counts.
There’s a white mulberry tree near my apartment, but most of the ones around here are purple.
And the season isn’t even close to starting around here, not even for the tree over Mom’s driveway which starts earlier and ends later than any other tree in the city. It’s got fruit on it, but they’re still tiny, hard, and green.
In searching for a mulberry syrup recipe I found this. I know I’ll try it, sounds really refreshing.
Yeah I know, it’s been two years. But I still like mulberries and boy, is the tree I pick from bearing well this year! last year I didn’t post, the yield was poor due to weather problems.
But this year I’ll make icecream again, and pies. I’ll put the latter in the freezer to bake off when I need them.
Anybody that’s been in the thread, do you still work with mulberries? Anyone new?
They’re still one of my official harbingers of summer. But it doesn’t take very many any more for me to have enough.
My opinion might differ if I just had a bunch of trees in the middle of a field.
The tree I pick from is quite large and has branches that hang low, making the berries easy to pick. I never get more than a small portion of the growth, I can afford to wait until I pick really ripe ones. It’s on an empty lot north of my house, where two houses once stood. The lot is mowed by the owner, a neighbor, but they don’t do anything else, and they certainly don’t mind me picking the fruit.
Since you pick you know they don’t all come ripe at the same time, a reason I think why it’s hard to make large quantities of mulberry product commercially.
I think this year I’ll try that mulberry syrup, a couple of pies, and some ice cream. I’d make jam but have no talent for canning.
I juiced some mulberries this evening and tomorrow I will cook some syrup. It’s a mess but it’s worth the work. Tomorrow and Friday I’ll pick a bunch more and work up some pies on the weekend. Next week comes ice cream. The latter’s purple color is really attractive.
I’m deeply disappointed that the person who lives next door to my mother convinced her to get rid of the mulberry tree a few years back. (It was growing literally around the fence, equally in both yards with its roots on the property line, so it required a joint approval of nations to take it out.)
It grew up and over Mom’s deck, so there was a perfect picking platform for lazy harvesting.
But alas, there are no more mulberries in my life. 
We just moved into a new home last week and I was delighted to see that there was a very large mulberry tree in my back yard with a few branches that were within reach of my second story deck.
Then, Saturday morning, the raccoon showed up. :mad:
I was disappointed at first but realized that he was two fat to eat off of the outer branches.
Then, the squirrels showed up. :mad: :mad:
Looks like I won’t get any mulberries. Neither the raccoon nor the squirrels care to wait for the berries to ripen.
That’s too bad. I would send you some if it was feasible.
I have juice now, and enough berries to make a couple pies. I need more for juicing, and for some home made ice cream.
There are a lot of birds around, but the tree is so large it still leaves plenty for me. And since the birds start eating first, that’s when I know berries are ripening, by the purple splotches on the sidewalk.