1859 Summer 2009

Home Grown
by Cathy Carroll
The
Marionberry
Oregon's native son, the marionberry shows its pedigree
with a burst of versatility
Bred at Oregon State University,
the marionberry is named after Marion
County, where it was tested extensively in
the 1940s and '50s before being introduced
commercially in 1956.
There are faster and more modern alternatives,
but Leonard Heidt, 60, still prefers to plant his
marionberry vines by hand.
“I’m up and down on my knees for 1,500 of
those,” he says. “What else would I do?" This is how I started.
I decided I didn’t want to be a 'pickup [truck] farmer' – a
farmer who drives around. I like working in the ground too
much.”
Introduced by George F. Waldo, who worked for the U.S.
Department of Agriculture in Corvallis, the marionberry has
been called the “cabernet of blackberries” for its complex, rich
earthy flavor. This particular berry also has an Oregon heritage.
Bred at Oregon State University, the marionberry is named after
Marion County, where it was tested extensively in the 1940s
and '50s before being introduced commercially in 1956.
Sixteen years after the marionberry was introduced, Heidt,
then 23, bought 35 acres in Mt. Angel and began growing loganberries,
strawberries and other varieties. Those berries
weren’t profitable, and they were prone to diseases and harvesting
problems. The standout was the marionberry.
“I like the way they pick and the flavor of them,” Heidt says.
“They are high quality berries as far as blackberries go.”
On this day in May, Heidt pauses in the field, surrounded by
the hand-planted bushes. “Everybody looks for the ideal dream
life, and this is mine,” says Heidt. “Some people like to fish and
golf. I don’t.”
After growing marionberries for 36 years, Heidt knows the
optimal time and temperature for berry picking: touch a berry
and it drops from the plant. In your mouth, the ripe marionberry
bursts with a sublime balance of tartness and sweetness.
Come July, these berries ripen to a deep purple. Heidt works
nearly `round-the-clock six days a week.
It’s the apex of his year – and a continuum of his life’s work.
It brings with it, however, some anxiety, says Heidt’s wife,
Joann, 57.
“We call it ‘Pms’—pre-marion season, because it gets kind
of tense, waiting those last few weeks before you pick,” she says.
64 1859magazine.com summer 09