Jammin'

This was a kitchen goddess weekend. I spent hours and hours in my little, colorful kitchen making 2 dinners and jam. Lots of jam.

Growing up, I made jam with my Grandma Boyd. She was kitchen goddess extraordinaire, but didn't even know it. She just did what she had to do. Feed people. She grew up on a farm and lived through the depression. She washed baggies and foil. She was not a pack rat, but was careful not to be wasteful. She taught me the fine art of jam making.

Apricot, strawberry, plum. Those were her standards. I have made jam a few times since she has died, and think of her every time. Especially when I break the rules.

My grandma's food always tasted the same. Delicious, but identical to the last time she made it. And the time before. Always. Why? Because she followed directions to a "T" and never wavered from them. If it called for 1/4 tsp of butter, that's what it got. She pulled down the same ancient and yellowed cookbooks for meals she had made for the past 50 years. I am not cut from the same cloth.

I am a rule breaker.

Sometimes I break the rules on purpose, sometimes on accident. When she was alive, I used to store stories up until our visits, just to regale her with my latest antics, to which she would shake her head and exclaim, "Judy!" in a manner that told me she was slightly shocked but didn't love me any the less for it.

I spent a lot of my childhood in her kitchen. She would tie a big "flour sack" towel around my waste and I would stand on the step-stool, stirring and tasting and rolling and creating with her. Cookies, pies, frosting, dinner, lunch, and as I got older, I was initiated into the world of jam making.

She used a clamp-on meat grinder to break down the fruit. I use a food processor. Or my hands. I am a very messy, hands-on cook. Her kitchen would look used, but very organized. Mine has fruit splattered on the cabinet doors after a batch of jam. But you know what? Jam tastes good not matter how messy or neat you are while making it.

On Friday afternoon, I stopped by the little produce stand in Bonsall and bought a flat of strawberries for $20. I stopped by the store for some sugar and canning lids. I ventured into the basement for jars and canning pots and utensils.

In the past I made the jam according to the recipe that came with the box of pectin. This year I decided to make jam according to a book she had given me a few years ago. The main difference is that the sugar and berries sit together for 2 hours to get good and juicy. The boxed directions never had me do that. I crushed enough berries for 2 batches, and realized I had half the flat left. Sigh. I wrote pectin and sugar on the shopping list. Looks like a long weekend of canning ahead. I didn't really mind. Why go small?

The first 2 batches of strawberry jam turned out optimum. Then my "rule breakin" personality started peeking through and I decided to make the second two batches with rhubarb. On Sunday, I bought 2 lbs of rhubarb, skinned and diced it, mixed it in with the strawberries and sugar, then took off to fly kites with my guys.

I couldn't find any recipes that had the strawberries and rhubarb together in any of my books or the pamphlets, so I decided to wing it. Not the best idea for jam, as it might not "set" properly (get solid) but hey, I could always label it "syrup", right?

While at the store, I decided to go "economical" and buy the powdered pectin, rather than the liquid I had used the day before. The powder was about $2/box. The liquid was almost $7 (for 2 packages in a box). Chaos further reigned when I read that the sugar was to be added after the fruit had come to a boil when using the powder. My fruit had been macerating in the sugar for a few hours. I plowed ahead.

14 jars later, I am not sure if it will be labeled "jam" or "syrup" but it tastes delicious. I called my co-worker and friend, Lorie, and asked her if she would be up to baking some bread for work. I would bring the jam. We would pig out. She was happy to oblige. Monday will be some good
eatin'!