I’m home, guys. In my own bed and kitchen. I have lots to tell, but I’ve taken to working on other stories in bed, and so wind up feeling like I’ve written a post here when I’ve actually been completely slacking in that regard. From now on I’ll relegate work to my desk (or couch/front step/coffee shop) and be more selective about who I bring to bed.
In my three-day absence I learned of some fast food trips (those five year olds are talkers) and that W’s new favourite dinner is something called egg hot dog, in which two poached eggs are served up drippily on a leftover hot dog bun from the Big Birthday Party, presumably because there’s no other bread in the house. (There was, however, plenty of fresh spinach, kale and chard that remained untouched. And wait till you see the garden.) I think I should instigate Mike Mondays, and make him cook. What do you think?
Some rummaging around this morning produced a couple scones from the freezer and upon doing inventory of the fridge (I’ve only been home about a day and a half since we cleaned out the fridge and left for Tofino) I came upon a jar of this rhubarb-ginger jam I made when it did not seem possible that the counterload of rhubarb would in any way squeeze into the freezer. And I’m pretty good at Tetris.
I won’t even pretend to write out an elaborate recipe for this – all I did was chop and cook it down, with a thumb-sized piece of ginger lazily sliced in and then plucked out afterward – you could grate it instead, and cook it down with the rhubarb.
Rhubarb-Ginger Jam
5 cups chopped rhubarb
2 cups sugar
a few slices of fresh ginger, or a few chunks of chopped candied ginger, or a drizzle of ginger syrup
Put everything in a pot, and add a splash of water only if you feel you need the help to get things going. Bring to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until the mixture is soft, thick, and jam-like. Cool, pluck out any large chunks of ginger (if you want to) and store in the fridge. Makes a few cups.
August 12 2010 | preserves | 9 Comments »
There are a few common misconceptions about jam-making that I don’t quite get. And I’d like to clear them up now, if possible.
1) you must make an enormous batch, requiring pounds of fruit, an enormous pot and every square inch of counter space available.
2) you must use proper canning equipment, buy jars with sealable lids, and process your jam at so many pounds per inch for a precise length of time, lest you give someone botulism.
3) you must buy packaged pectin, be exact with your measurements and then feel some degree of panic over the possibility that your jam might not set.
4) it will take you all day, or at least most of the afternoon.
Really guys, it’s just not that big a deal. Jam is just fruit cooked down with sugar and acid (ie. lemon juice). So why can’t you just mash up a pot and simmer it while you do other things? What’s wrong with making a cup or two at a time, enough to last the next week or so, instead of needing to fill a dozen jars and stock your pantry shelves for winter? (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)
I had a big bowl of strawberries left over from the display of a foodstyling job on Wednesday, and even the boys barely made a dent in them. I have zero freezer space left – I doubt I’d find room for even a single strawberry – so jam seemed a good solution. The seed was planted when I got an email offering a copy of 250 Home Preserving Favorites for Free Stuff Friday! I adore preserving books.
I planned on making the recipe for Strawberry Fig Jam with Balsamic Vinegar that came in the email, but didn’t have fresh figs, and they aren’t in season. At 4:30 I spotted the rapidly deteriorating bowl of berries, hulled them while talking on the phone, mashed them with a potato masher and threw them in my cast-iron skillet.
The advantage of using a skillet: more surface area, so the fruit cooks far more quickly. I added a half cup of sugar (you could add more, but I like jam not overly sweet, and for the flavour to come through) and squeezed in the juice of half a lemon, and it came to a simmer quickly. It cooked for ten minutes; I stirred it now and then – more often as it got thicker, breaking up the berries a bit more with my spoon – and when it was thick enough that it a) looked like jam, and b) left a trail when I dragged the spoon through it, it was done. It was 4:45.
I had intended to do a quick skillet jam with balsamic, but after a rough day I was in the mood for something more friendly and comforting – like vanilla. I stirred a bit of the good stuff in as I took the jam off the heat. (If you want a balsamic version, add about a tablespoon along with the lemon juice.) Now I have no choice but to make scones in the morning.
Skillet Strawberry Jam
1 L strawberries (4 cups), hulled
1/2 cup sugar
juice of half a lemon (about 1 Tbsp.)
1/4 tsp. pure vanilla extract (optional)
In a bowl, roughly mash your strawberries with a potato masher (you may need to lean into it at first, to get them going) or squeeze them with your fingers. Put them into a large skillet (cast iron is perfect!) with the sugar and lemon juice and cook over medium-high heat, stirring often and breaking up large chunks of berry with your spoon, until it thickens and your spoon leaves a trail across the bottom of the pan. (It should take about 10 minutes.) If you like, stir in the vanilla. Cool. Makes about 1 1/2 cups.
And since I mentioned it – here’s Yvonne’s recipe for Fig Strawberry Jam with Balsamic Vinegar. Yum.
Fig Strawberry Jam with Balsamic Vinegar
from 250 Home Preserving Favorites by Yvonne Tremblay
3 cups crushed strawberries
2 cups finely chopped fresh dark figs
1/3 cup balsamic vinegar, or to taste
1 tbsp lemon juice
5 1/2 cups granulated sugar
1. In a large, deep, heavy-bottomed pot, combine strawberries, figs, vinegar and lemon juice. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring constantly.
2. Add sugar in a steady stream, stirring constantly. Bring to a full boil, stirring constantly to dissolve sugar. Reduce heat to medium and boil gently, stirring often and reducing heat further as mixture thickens, for 18 to 22 minutes or until thickened. Use a potato masher to further break down figs. Test for setting point.
3. Remove from heat and skim off any foam.
4. Ladle into sterilized jars to within 1?4 inch (0.5 cm) of rim; wipe rims. Apply prepared lids and rings; tighten rings just until fingertip-tight.
5. Process jars in a boiling water canner for 10 minutes. Transfer jars to a towel-lined surface and let rest at room temperature until set. Check seals; refrigerate any unsealed jars for up to 3 weeks.
Right, it’s time to give away a copy of 250 Home Preserving Favorites. Now, I haven’t seen it yet, so I can’t really report on it. But I can tell you it was written by Yvonne Tremblay, a four-time Grand Champion Jam and Jelly Maker at the Royal Winter Fair, so I imagine she knows her stuff. If I’m going to learn how to make jams and jellies from someone, the best authority I can think of is someone who wins preserve contests at country fairs. 250 recipes should take you through the summer just fine. Besides jams and jellies there are marmalades, chutneys and barbecue sauces. I’m all about the condiments.
So shall we share what dinner was last night? Or on the subject of preserves, do you have any favourites? Feel free to provide links!
At The Family Kitchen: Grilled Pizza with Mangos, Basil & Buffalo Mozzarella
May 15 2010 | preserves | 77 Comments »
About those blood oranges. I found a few more of them. And so I turned them into marmalade. Because blood oranges tend to have a more mellow flavour and are less acidic, I thought they might get along well with vanilla.
Orange seeds contain pectin, so if you pull them out before (and while) slicing the fruit and put them into a tea ball, you can simmer it along with the oranges and sugar to utilize the pectin and easily extract them afterwards. My oranges had no seeds.
I went for it without, and it didn’t set. Not wanting to cook it to death and eventually produce candy, I cut an apple core into chunks and threw it in the pot – apples, and apple seeds in particular, are also high in pectin.
I pulled the chunks of apple out, not wanting them to turn to mush (horrors!) in my marvy marmalade. It remained soft, but I’d always choose a runny jam that a stiff, Jell-O-ey one.
Blood Orange & Vanilla Bean Marmalade
This recipe would work as well with seville oranges or really any variety you want to turn into jam; I might try it next with pink grapefruit.
3 large blood oranges (or regular oranges)
5 cups water
pinch salt
4 cups sugar
1 vanilla bean (optional)
Cut the oranges in half and poke the seeds out; put them into a tea ball if you have one, otherwise wrap them in cheesecloth. Slice the oranges thinly and then chop them crosswise as big or small as you like. Put them (and the tea ball) into a pot with the water and salt and bring to a boil; simmer for half an hour. Turn off the heat and let it sit for a few hours or overnight.
Stir in the sugar and bring the mixture to a boil. Cook for about half an hour, or until the mixture gels; you can test it by dropping a small spoonful onto a saucer that you get nice and cold in the freezer while the marmalade simmers. Meanwhile, cut the vanilla bean lengthwise with the tip of a sharp knife and scrape out the seeds. When the marmalade is the consistency you like remove it from the heat, pull out the tea ball of orange seeds and stir in the scraped-out vanilla seeds. Divide into clean, warm jars and seal or cool completely and store in the fridge or freeze.
Makes about 4 cups.
April 19 2010 | preserves | 9 Comments »
I’m in full Christmas mode, finishing up a piece for the holiday issue of Parents Canada magazine. I actually pulled up Bing and Bowie in order to jolt my brain into writing something sufficiently holiday-spirited, then baked gingerbread. (Upside-down Pear Gingerbread – remember it? The one that apparently caused a run on molasses in Jakarta? Oh yes, ’tis almost the season!)
But since they frown on eating cake for dinner, I thawed some of that pork. (I may just start throwing the shrinkwrapped tenderloins in W’s bathtub to thaw in the evenings – they’d make fine sea monsters for his pirate ship.) Tenderloin #1 was hastily rubbed with a dry barbecue rub I had on my shelf and grilled. Bam.
And really in the end the pork was just a mode of delivery for the pear chutney, which I’m quite enamoured with. It’s from Well Preserved by Mary Anne Dragan, a newly re-released cookbook I’ve had on my shelf for years (I do love the new makeover though!) and reference quite often when I’m in the mood to put stuff up in jars. If you’re looking to do something with all those pears, here’s just the thing. It may just oust the cranberry sauce from our Thanksgiving table this year.
(Please note: as you may be able to tell from this photo, I forgot it on the stovetop and nearly candied it. I had to add a bit of water just to coax it back into something remotely chutneylike. It was still fabulous.)
Pear Chutney
The author suggests serving this chutney alongside roast chicken, turkey or pork, stirred into curries, or spooned over baked squash or sweet potato. (Sounds just about perfect for Thanksgiving to me.) Reprinted (with permission) from Well Preserved, Small Batch Preserving for the New Cook (Whitecap).
6 cups chopped pears, peeled or not
1 cup chopped apple
1/2 cup finely chopped onion
1/2 cup finely chopped red bell pepper
3/4 cup dark raisins
1/2 cup chopped candied ginger
2 cups brown sugar
3/4 cup cider vinegar
finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
1 Tbsp. mustard seeds
2 tsp. dried chili flakes
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. cloves
Prepare the preserving jars according to package directions. (For me, this means wash them. I like giving them a run through the dishwasher, so they come out clean and hot – when you ladle in the hot preserves, they seal perfectly as they cool.)
Combine all the ingredients in your preserving pot. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally. Simmer, stirring often, until the pears are tender and the mixture has thickened, about 1 hour.
Remove from the heat. Ladle the chutney into hot, sterilized jars, leaving a 1/2 inch head space. Wipe the rims clean. Seal according to manufacturer’s directions. Process the jars in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes. (Or not.)
Makes about five to six 8 oz. (250 mL) jars.
One Year Ago: Skillet Jambalaya
September 29 2009 | pork and preserves | 21 Comments »
We’ve spent more time than usual at the dog park this week, having doubled the quantity of dog in our house by taking in a stunning Rhodesian ridgeback, truly a supermodel among dogs. To say her dad is a young, outdoorsy type is a colossal understatement, so as Comox is accustomed to spending her weekends on backcountry ski trips, mountain biking, hiking/rock climbing and the like, she’s ripped. She’s Wonder Woman to Lou’s Fred Flinstone. Quite the dominatrix, too. They are the best of pals.
I had been noticing some sort of berry growing in abundance up and down every path, and over the past week they have been turning a more alluring shade of wine-purple, hanging all lusty and low in clusters, like teeny grapes with a little more breathing room.
Every time I stopped to examine them and wonder aloud what they might be, Mike would put his head down and walk faster.
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August 28 2009 | preserves | 37 Comments »
