I grew up watching my mom can all sorts of fruit, vegetables, jams and jellies. My earliest memories are of the fear laden love/hate relationship she seems to have with the pressure cooker. It was big, and heavy and DANGEROUS! I hear a lot of "don't touch", "scooch out of the way", and "MOVE!"
But her jellies were worth all that anxiety. I once told my sister-in-law, "Store bought jelly is not a gift" when I learned that she traditionally gave her grandmother a package of those tiny jelly assortments every Christmas. Blasphemy, I thought.
Mom eventually moved to the water bath method of canning. Granted, the canner wouldn't explode if you did something wrong, but there were still precautions to be taken. Canning is a science, see. Vegetables and fruits need to have just the right balance of acid. Jams and jellies need the right amount of pectin and sugar and acid. All of these need to be prepared in a sanitized environment. Do any of these things wrong, and you will die of botulism surrounded by raccoons and rats fighting over your decaying remains. I swear!
Needless to say, I never did any of the canning. Eventually, I decided I didn't need to learn this magic for myself. I am not particularly a fan of home canned vegetables or fruit. The Jolly Green Giant does it just fine for my taste.
But the jelly has haunted me. Mom was still making peach and strawberry jam until 2 years ago. It was just a bother to be on her feet all day cleaning and cooking all that fruit then lifting the canner full of hot water. I offered to help but this was her thing, and she is a determined woman (some might say stubborn). The last batch of jam she made was freezer jam, which removes the need for the canner but still requires a certain level of precision that I hadn't developed.
I horded those last containers of jam. I hid them from my brothers and sister on holidays and begrudgingly handed over a jar of when my dad insisted, I give one to my niece. Damnit Dad! The last jar of peach jam is dwindling in the freezer today and will soon me gone. Mom has drifted into the stage of Alzheimer's that she is now unable to make more. I have to step up.
Today was the day. I re-read the instructions one more time. I peeled the oranges, removed the pith, chopped the fruit, boiled the rinds in soda water, mixed 1/4 cup of the premeasured sugar with the package of pectin, measured 5.5 cups the fruit and rinds... crap! They meant for me to segment the oranges. Why didn't they say segment the damn oranges! try to pull out as much of the membranes possible. Finally, I started cooking the fruit with the sugar/pectin blend.
Ope, I need to sanitize the jars, lids and rings. I rounded up the necessary canning equipment. You would think all this stuff would be stored together. Nope! Everything was in 4 different odd places. Whatever!
Everything started coming together. And finally, the jars were filled and sanitized lids were placed on top with tight rings. I placed the jars into the giant canner, filled it with water, placed the lid on top and breathed a sigh of hope. I dropped a couple slices of bread into the toaster. Lucky me, there was just enough extra marmalade to do a proper taste test!
I'm sitting here after cleaning up the kitchen and removing the processed jars from the canner. I did it! Sure, there was frustration and moments of discouragement, but I persevered. And with every satisfying pop of a sealed lid, I remember my mom; putting up all those jars of fruits and vegetables and jams and jellies to keep our family fed year after year. She was one amazing woman. Maybe I will be too, some day.
P.S.
I will let you know if I die from botulism.
- Kathleen
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