I recently wrote of the destruction of my late parents' Shropshire orchard. Included in the massacre was a large netted fruit cage that contained a dozen or more rare varieties of Gooseberry. Some were large smooth and green, some were tiny hairy and red, and the others were all colours and sizes in between. It was a remarkable collection of unusual varieties that must have taken years to amass. All of these were destroyed in the mindless clearance.
Anyway; I love Gooseberries. I did plant a few bushes here in France about 40 years ago, but they all succumbed to some horrible disease. Recently I've noticed that they are making a come-back in the area, so I'm going to re-plant.
Gooseberries to me are a bit like like Rhubarb; essential in the garden, and eaten every so often as a special treat. Stewed Goosberries and thick clotted cream, Gooseberry fool, a Gooseberry tart. Does no-one eat these delights any more? Well, from 2011 onwards I certainly intend to.