Feeling like a pioneer woman

Since we've returned from our annual hiatus in Northen Michigan, I've been (very reluctantly) giving away the jars of canning I did in August. I'm so proud of myself I really just want them to sit on a shelf where I can gaze at them. Now I get why people enter these kinds of things in the Texas State Fair. They're beautiful. Little jewels of ready to eat food, patiently waiting to be used.

Luckly, Aunt Gayle was cleaning out her garage and had the door open so I saw an old canning kettle with basket which she was happy to give away. She also had some jars and I scrounged a few more. Ready to go.

Visited a local farm that had tiny cukes so first I made the pickles as I was confident of the recipe, having made the refrigerated kind previously. The pickles juice was so good I did another small batch using some odd sized jars and made pickled beets.

Got carried away buying fresh farmer corn so used almost a dozen ears to make corn relish. Tastes alot like the kind I used to get at the Neiman Marcus lunch counter many years ago.

Actually got the peaches at the store, but they were local. Had in mind a brandied peach thing, but only had rum on hand so that's it.

And finally attempted the jam. Cousin Ginny brought me some blackberries she and Jim had picked (secret location not revealed). I bought a pint of raspberries and because I still didn't have enought fruit for my recipe, threw in a few Michigan blueberries also. A miracle: jelled perfectly and tastes divine.

Carefully wrapped each jar in newspaper for the 1400 mile drive home and they all arrived intact. Possibly will all be gone by Christmas. Thank goodness we don't need to stock a cellar to survive the winter like the many of the pioneer women actually did, but if we did, I now have at least a clue how to go about it. I feel connected. And virtuous. And hungry.

Real strawberry flavor - from real strawberries

A few years ago, I did pick a couple of tiny little strawberries out of an old patch hidden in the grassy field across the road, and was stunned at the revelation of what strawberry flavor really is. Since then I have totally boycotted those big red too-perfect to be real commercially grown California strawberries which actually taste like tart Kool-Aid and incidentally carry more pesticide residue than almost any other fruit. Yuk.

So two summers ago on impulse I bought a flat of "ever-bearing" strawberries from The Plantman (a local nursery, love the name) and got some help arranging them on the lower slope of the drainage field next to our house...or "the mound" as we euphemistically call it. Last year, a few berries showed up, just enough to whet our appetite. This year, a bonanza. And a feast.

When the whole patch first started showing little balls of green all over, I salivated and announced in advance that we were not sharing. Actually, I planned to sit right next to the mound and personally eat them one by one as they ripened. And they soon came on gorgeously ripe red and tasted every bit as deliciously like "strawberry" as I had anticipated. Occasionally I had a few sunshine warm ones straight out of the patch. Turns out that to save them from the birds and chipmunks we had to pick them by the handful as they ripened, and they accumulated in a bowl on the kitchen counter. So instead of noshing in a chair outside, I just grabbed a few every time I passed through the kitchen.

But last week they got ahead of me. And facing about two quarts rapidly deteriorating, I dashed to the store for Sure-Jell (powered fruit pectin) and came home and whipped out a batch of strawberry freezer jam. It's really easy. Two cups of smashed berries requires four cups of sugar, which seems an obscene ratio of fruit to sugar. But when it all jells into a jewel colored jam it comes really close to tasting like a fresh and perfectly sweet homegrown strawberry. Delicious. This is what strawberries are supposed to taste like.