Stayed up late last night making jam. Strawberry jam. Hub and I had driven out to the strawberry field and bought a flat. When the berry lady heard that I was making jam she brought out a flat of ugly berries, $4 off. Hub looked a little crestfallen, he is a berry fiend. When I am slicing berries he hovers nearby with a carton of cream clutched to his chest and an empty bowl in his hand. He wilted a little as he looked at the ugly berries I was purchasing. They're only for jam, I'm just going to bash them up with my potato masher, why pay for pretty berries to beat them to death? On the way home Hub groused that it's worth $4 more to not have to throw any of them in the slop bucket.
He was right. Should have gone for the better berries. They were loaded with sand! I could have potted plants in the dirt and sand on those berries. I rinsed them in a colander. Dumped the rinsed berries into a sink full of water and swished extensively. This goes against the grain as I was taught that it is possible to wash the flavour right out of a strawberry, to always handle with care. But these berries were so dirty! After swirling them in the sink they were rinsed again in the colander.
Now the slicing begins. Slice, slice, make a little bowl of the best berries for mournful Hub who thinks he's not going to get any berries at all. Sorrow has sent him for a nap. He sleeps, I slice. Easily a third went into the slop bucket as rock hard, rotting, or still caked with sand. It was slow slogging through the mess and huge variety in sizes. I would have been mortified at the amount lost, but I am in love with my ducks and knew they would love the spoils, so I wasn't too put out about it. Hub gets up and is happy to find a little sugared bowl with bright berries, just for him. He sits in the living room and eats his prize while I boil jars and measure sugar.
Two things make a huge mess in my kitchen, lasagna and jam. Can't make either without a full scale kitchen disaster. Wall to wall stickiness was the result but I had 14 sparkling jars of glorious jam, waiting for the lids to do their plink, plink, plink. Hub had long ago gone to bed for the night, I was alone, feeling that feeling that women have felt throughout the ages as they toil to provide food for their families, exhaustion. It was way past my bed time. I decided to leave the clean up until the morning, I was just too tired to tackle the task. BUt before heading off to brush my teeth I wanted to taste the result of my labour. There was a glistening bit of jam in the bottom of the pot. I swiped it up with my finger, hmm, there is sure a lot of berry seeds in the bottom, pop it in my mouth... SAND! The jam is full of sand! I have made 14 jars of sand jam.
Love in a jar? Nope. Sand in a jar. I quit!
He was right. Should have gone for the better berries. They were loaded with sand! I could have potted plants in the dirt and sand on those berries. I rinsed them in a colander. Dumped the rinsed berries into a sink full of water and swished extensively. This goes against the grain as I was taught that it is possible to wash the flavour right out of a strawberry, to always handle with care. But these berries were so dirty! After swirling them in the sink they were rinsed again in the colander.
Now the slicing begins. Slice, slice, make a little bowl of the best berries for mournful Hub who thinks he's not going to get any berries at all. Sorrow has sent him for a nap. He sleeps, I slice. Easily a third went into the slop bucket as rock hard, rotting, or still caked with sand. It was slow slogging through the mess and huge variety in sizes. I would have been mortified at the amount lost, but I am in love with my ducks and knew they would love the spoils, so I wasn't too put out about it. Hub gets up and is happy to find a little sugared bowl with bright berries, just for him. He sits in the living room and eats his prize while I boil jars and measure sugar.
Two things make a huge mess in my kitchen, lasagna and jam. Can't make either without a full scale kitchen disaster. Wall to wall stickiness was the result but I had 14 sparkling jars of glorious jam, waiting for the lids to do their plink, plink, plink. Hub had long ago gone to bed for the night, I was alone, feeling that feeling that women have felt throughout the ages as they toil to provide food for their families, exhaustion. It was way past my bed time. I decided to leave the clean up until the morning, I was just too tired to tackle the task. BUt before heading off to brush my teeth I wanted to taste the result of my labour. There was a glistening bit of jam in the bottom of the pot. I swiped it up with my finger, hmm, there is sure a lot of berry seeds in the bottom, pop it in my mouth... SAND! The jam is full of sand! I have made 14 jars of sand jam.
Love in a jar? Nope. Sand in a jar. I quit!
