Canning takes science, and precision, and at least 45 years of age. Or so I thought. It's strawberry season, and the U-Pick farms have been beckoning me with their $1.75/quart prices and general wholesomeness for weeks now. And as it turns out that, despite my scientific and aged-related failings, I, too, can make jam.
Lazy New Yorkers get their berries from roadside stands, where you stick a couple dollars in a jar and take a few flats of strawberries. They run on the honor system. Seriously. The honor system.
But as quaint as that is, picking your own probably tops it. Not to mention, I have far too much free time to buy them pre-picked. So there I was, squatting in awkward positions and swatting gnats and generally suffering for the better part of an hour at the farm, located just outside of town. To be fair, the little crimson jems nearly fell off their stalks, occasionally oozing into my hands with alarming bloodiness. And the thrill of inhaling fresh strawberries all the while tempered the strife.
So, my arms laden with Ball jars and strawberries, I ventured into the domain of grandmothers (great-grandfathers, in my case). And wow. Canning is apparently a well-kept secret of old age.
Though, maybe, a little time-consuming:
- 45 minutes to pick six quarts of strawberries from my local "U-pick" farm
- 15 minutes to decide which 5-quart pans to buy
- 20 minutes to find Ball jars in (shame) Wal-Mart
- 45 minutes to hull said six quarts of strawberries
- 15 minutes to cook them into red sludge
- 1 minute of anxious waiting before the lids popped
- 20 seconds to spread jam onto toasted bread
- 5 seconds to realize it's way better than that Amish crap
As for the cooking and "processing," it was sweaty. And a little scary. All these boil points and pectin measurements and things to be done "immediately." But it turns out, a little fumbling is OK. And my strawberries went from glistening specimens to mushed goop to exquisite jars of jam, without any witchcraft or grandmas (just a little Sure-Jell).
I can't wait for peach season.
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5 comments:
so freaking send me some already. i won't know if you can beat yoder in the pectin department unless i taste it for myself.
Sounds like a good time. Come on over to Iowa and help us during grape and tomato season.
Enjoy. B
Of course you would make your own jam. Margaret Poe, ladies and gentlemen: Making ordinary people feel inadequate in 92 distinct areas of expertise since 1986.
margaret, yes, send phoebe some. i bet your stuff is up to par with yoders's, if not better, but yoder is excellent.
mmm, i love this all.
I'm just glad to see you didn't mash off a fingertip. Finding a bloody onion is one thing...finding it in strawberries, on the other hand, is damn near impossible.
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