Pectin is a natural substance. It's a gelling substance that can be extracted from apples or citrus peals. But when I pick up that little box of Sure-Jell at the store, I get a little skeptical. I think of the boxes brimming with local blueberries that I picked myself. I think of my little jar of organic lemon juice. And then I think... do I really need this little box of mysterious substance to make jam?
The answer, it turns out, is no; especially if you're an over-eager blueberry harvester like me and end up picking a lot of blueberries that are firm, beautifully ripe on the top, and a wee-bit pink on the bottom. I'm just not a fan of mushy berries, so I end up picking a lot of those that are a few hours behind their true-blue counterparts. Turns out this is a good thing, because those less-ripe brethren will turn your blueberries into jam.
Blueberry Jam
4 cups properly-ripe blueberries
2 cups shy-of-ripe blueberries
1-3 cups sugar
1-6 tbsp lemon juice (this will bring out the flavor a little more and counteract the sweetness a touch)
Throw it all into the biggest pot you can find and simmer it for 30-60 minutes, stirring every five minutes. If you like to get technical, the jam should be at 220 degrees. Don't worry about blending or mashing the berries, the heat and your wooden spoon will do most of that for you. The mixture is done cooking when the sauce starts to congeal on the spoon between stirrings. Pour into hot jars leaving 1/2 inch headspace, process for 10 minutes.
Tuesday, October 19
Nectarine "Applesauce"
Yours truly is allergic to apples. I think it's kind of a sick joke, actually, considering apples and their allergenic cousin, pears, are both the heralds of autumn and the miracles of fruit. If it were an eye-swelling, hives-inducing allergy I would be a lot less sad about it. In that case, I'd hopefully have some Pavlovian response and retch at the thought of apple pie. Instead, I fondly remember gathering apples and pressing cider with my family. I instinctively pick up fallen apples from the sidewalk and salivate when I serve a dutch oven full of buttery baked apples. You, of course, already know how amazing apples are, so why don't I just expose the cure to apples? Ta da: Nectarines!
Who would have thought that this summery Chinese fruit would be an answer to autumn woes? But it's true! On the stove or in the oven, nectarines will cook down to a few of your favorite apple dishes. So while I haven't yet tried a solid "Apple" pie, I do have some proof that nectarines are my little miracle.
Nectarine "Applesauce"
Nectarines
Sugar
Fresh grated ginger
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Pit and chop enough nectarines to fill a blender. Blend up the fruit until you achieve whatever consistency you generally like in applesauce, then pour it into the largest pot you can possibly find. Keep chopping and blending until your pot is half full (the more you fill, the more of a mess you will make, as this stuff boils over as happily as spaghetti sauce). Turn the stove on to medium-high heat, or just enough to prevent a full-on boil. Stir often. Cook until the sauce is as thick or as runny as you like it-- really, all you're doing here is browning the mixture a little bit and letting moisture boil out. I prefer a thick, chunky sauce, so I blend minimally and cook each batch for 45-60 minutes. Just before you're ready to can, add a little sugar, but I warn you: it doesn't need much. Stir in some fresh grated ginger or a little cinnamon and nutmeg to taste. I alternate batches in order to appeal to the rest of my household-- I can always mix two jars later. Pour into hot jars leaving about 1/2 inch of headspace, process for 10-15 minutes.
Concord Grape and Nectarine Butter
Nectarines
Fresh, local, concord grapes
Honey
This little number was borrowed from Christie's Corner. I felt like this recipe was simple because I was already stuck in the kitchen on a nectarine applesauce marathon. I made a batch of nectarine sauce-- but this one was blended particularly smooth. While the sauce was cooking, I blended a few pounds of local concord grapes in a blender. Using cheesecloth--while wearing old, stained clothes-- I squeezed every last drop of juice out into the nectarine sauce. Then I cooked the sauce for longer than usual, adding to the thickness by sweetening with honey instead of cane sugar. And... butter! Pretty darn simple if you're already canning nectarines anyway.
Who would have thought that this summery Chinese fruit would be an answer to autumn woes? But it's true! On the stove or in the oven, nectarines will cook down to a few of your favorite apple dishes. So while I haven't yet tried a solid "Apple" pie, I do have some proof that nectarines are my little miracle.
Nectarine "Applesauce"
Nectarines
Sugar
Fresh grated ginger
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Pit and chop enough nectarines to fill a blender. Blend up the fruit until you achieve whatever consistency you generally like in applesauce, then pour it into the largest pot you can possibly find. Keep chopping and blending until your pot is half full (the more you fill, the more of a mess you will make, as this stuff boils over as happily as spaghetti sauce). Turn the stove on to medium-high heat, or just enough to prevent a full-on boil. Stir often. Cook until the sauce is as thick or as runny as you like it-- really, all you're doing here is browning the mixture a little bit and letting moisture boil out. I prefer a thick, chunky sauce, so I blend minimally and cook each batch for 45-60 minutes. Just before you're ready to can, add a little sugar, but I warn you: it doesn't need much. Stir in some fresh grated ginger or a little cinnamon and nutmeg to taste. I alternate batches in order to appeal to the rest of my household-- I can always mix two jars later. Pour into hot jars leaving about 1/2 inch of headspace, process for 10-15 minutes.
Concord Grape and Nectarine Butter
Nectarines
Fresh, local, concord grapes
Honey
This little number was borrowed from Christie's Corner. I felt like this recipe was simple because I was already stuck in the kitchen on a nectarine applesauce marathon. I made a batch of nectarine sauce-- but this one was blended particularly smooth. While the sauce was cooking, I blended a few pounds of local concord grapes in a blender. Using cheesecloth--while wearing old, stained clothes-- I squeezed every last drop of juice out into the nectarine sauce. Then I cooked the sauce for longer than usual, adding to the thickness by sweetening with honey instead of cane sugar. And... butter! Pretty darn simple if you're already canning nectarines anyway.
Sweet Pickle Relish
I found this incredible recipe over at Heritage Recipes when I was in a pickle this summer--I mean it, I was knee deep in cucumbers. After dozens of chilled soups and Greek salads, the idea of eating yet another cucumber eventually turned my stomach, so I decided I'd put my newly-found canning skills to work and make... something with cucumbers.
I love a good dill pickle, but no one who shares my blood type within a thousand mile radius does, and letting canned goods go to waste is just as bad as letting cukes go to compost. So that was out. A good friend of mine had recently made delicious bread and butter pickles and would probably share the recipe (admittedly, I gave him heaps of crap for adding 4 cups of sugar to a pickle recipe, but he made me eat my words when I tried his creation). As appetizing as that sounded, I still couldn't imagine sitting on 6 quarts of pickles all by myself. But what pickle will non-pickle-eaters eat? Relish. Relish had so many more applications anyway, so I settled on a sweet variety. This particular recipe is so good you practically want to eat it with a spoon! Already it's been a hit at barbecues and I can't wait to mix it into a creamy potato salad.
To be true to the wonderful woman who posted the recipe, I've posted the original recipe. I will admit that I used about half the sugar and a few more red peppers with great success!
I love a good dill pickle, but no one who shares my blood type within a thousand mile radius does, and letting canned goods go to waste is just as bad as letting cukes go to compost. So that was out. A good friend of mine had recently made delicious bread and butter pickles and would probably share the recipe (admittedly, I gave him heaps of crap for adding 4 cups of sugar to a pickle recipe, but he made me eat my words when I tried his creation). As appetizing as that sounded, I still couldn't imagine sitting on 6 quarts of pickles all by myself. But what pickle will non-pickle-eaters eat? Relish. Relish had so many more applications anyway, so I settled on a sweet variety. This particular recipe is so good you practically want to eat it with a spoon! Already it's been a hit at barbecues and I can't wait to mix it into a creamy potato salad.
To be true to the wonderful woman who posted the recipe, I've posted the original recipe. I will admit that I used about half the sugar and a few more red peppers with great success!
Sweet Relish
6 lbs cucumbers (don't peal!)
4 cups onions
2 green peppers
1 red pepper
Grind and mix together with...
1/2 c canning salt
2 qts Boiling water.
Let stand for 1 hour.
Drain well, then add the following,
1 tsp. mustard seed
1 tsp. turmeric
1 pint vinegar
5 cups sugar
1 Tbsp. corn starch
Boil 1/2 hour and seal hot in pint jars.
Makes around 6 pints.
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