There’s a stretch of green space on my cycle to work through south London that has become something of a barometer for me of what’s good to forage throughout the seasons. It’s brimming with plants and bushes that make up a microcosm of almost all the urban wild foods we use at my London restaurants, Salon and Levan.

In the early spring, it was where I first picked tender young nettle tips. As the months grew warmer, I’d stop for sprigs of elderflower before my shift. There’s a fig tree overhanging from someone’s back garden, from which I’ve pinched a few leaves here and there. There are multiple blackberry and rosehips bushes, as well as the odd sloe. I’m keeping an eye on the crab apples, which are turning red and will soon be ready to drop.

At this time of year, with the last wisps of summer still in the air, and autumn not fully set in, it’s elderberries I’m on the lookout for: fruits barely bigger than a swollen pin head, but identifiable by the dark purple sheen and, when fully ripened, pink-hued stems.

This isn’t the first time I’ve written about the bounties of the elder tree on these pages. It’s a plant I feel particularly drawn to. For some reason, it seems to bring out the hippie in me, with its connotations of paganism, Mother Earth and otherworldly spirits. No wonder it’s been the subject of attention in botanical circles since before records began.

Mystic properties aside, the fruits of the elder tree, the elderberries, are great to eat, too. They’re full of vitamin C, a powerful antioxidant and natural anti-inflammatory. But it’s the flavour that excites me most: tart, fruity, slightly iron-y and bursting with autumnal zing.

Historically, elderberries have been used in medicinal syrups and tinctures, as well as adding complexity to early autumnal desserts such as crumbles and cobblers. For me, however, it’s in savoury dishes where they really shine. Their acidity and mellow, rounded sweetness makes them a great accompaniment to lighter game birds and oily fish such as sea trout, sardines or mackerel.

If you come across a glut as you’re strolling through nearby greenspaces in your neighbourhood, I recommend pickling them for use throughout the remainder of autumn. But before you ask, no, I’m not giving away my south London foraging spot!

For the pickled elderberries:

• Approx. 30 sprigs of ripe elderberries (about a carrier bag full)
• 500ml water
• 500ml white wine vinegar
• 250g caster sugar
• A pinch of salt

For the duck:

• ½ tsp muscovado sugar
• ½ tsp sea salt
• 1 star anise, finely ground
• A few twists of finely ground black pepper
• 2 duck breasts
• A little vegetable oil
• 1 shallot or ½ red onion, peeled and finely chopped
• 300ml chicken stock
• A small glass of red wine
• A few knobs of butter

First, pickle the elderberries – you can do this well ahead of time. Using a fork, carefully remove the berries from the stem and rinse thoroughly in cold water, drain and then transfer to a heatproof container. Bring the water, vinegar, sugar and salt gently to the simmer so all the sugar is dissolved. Allow to cool slightly, then pour the pickle brine over the elderberries. Leave to infuse for at least a few hours, although it will last months if kept sealed in a cool, dark place.

Next, prepare the duck and sauce. Preheat the oven to 160 degrees. Using a pestle and mortar or spice grinder, mix together the sugar, salt, anise and pepper. Trim the duck breasts to neaten up the fillets and remove any sinew. Set aside any trim. Score the skin of the duck breast in a diagonal fashion, sprinkle the sugar mixture all over the skin and flesh, then set aside while you prepare the sauce.

Heat a little vegetable oil in a heavy-based saucepan, then add the onion and any trim from the duck. Allow to colour but not brown too much. Add the chicken stock and red wine and bring to a simmer. Allow the liquid to reduce by three quarters, so you’re left with a rich, slightly syrupy texture. Strain the liquid through a fine sieve into a clean saucepan over a medium heat and add a few spoonfuls of the elderberry pickle brine to taste. Whisk in a knob or two of butter, which will add a glossy finish to the sauce. Set aside.

Heat an ovenproof skillet or frying pan over a medium heat with a little vegetable oil. Using a piece of kitchen paper, pat the duck dry to remove any moisture created by the salt. Sear the skin side of the duck in the pan for around 4 minutes, so the fat renders. Ensure it colours evenly. Add a knob of butter and allow it to foam, basting the flesh side, then turn over the duck and colour the other side for two minutes or so, basting again with butter as you go. Transfer the pan to the oven and cook for 4 minutes, by which time it will cooked to medium rare. Remove from the oven and allow to rest for a further 6-8 minutes.