I have vivid memories from my childhood of the sights, sounds and often the stickiness associated with the end of the summer. We had a huge garden and my mom was (and still is) a master at canning--tomatoes, peaches, pears, applesauce, pickles--you name it, she could do it all. I remember how hot the kitchen got on those days, the sound of bottles rattling in the pressure cooker, the feel of the squishy peach peels as they magically slipped off the blanched fruit. But mostly I remember my mom and the countless hours she spent in front of the sink filling the bottles in her labor of love.
Last year I planted only tomato plants in my garden so by late summer I had more tomatoes than I knew what to do with. After a few weeks of eating all things tomato, I realized there was no way we could eat them all fresh and I decided I really needed to learn how to can--not just to save my tomatoes, but to be a faithful latter-day-saint. I had a fairly good foundation of knowledge on the subject from what I had learned as a kid and what I didn't know I was able to find on the internet. I bought jars and lids, dug my biggest pot out of the back of the cupboard and set out to have an uplifting, provident, faith-promoting afternoon.
Unfortunately none of those things happened. My experience was less than uplifting--more problematic than providential. I realized the learning curve on this particular skill was steeper for me than I imagined it would be. I think the only real lesson I learned was that canning makes me curse.
I did manage to produce four little pint jars of tomatoes--two of which are still sitting in my basement because I just can't bring myself to open them when I think about the pains I took to make them.
So as I approach a new harvest season, I find myself thinking about my mom and the never ending patience and persistence she's able to employ to fill her storeroom shelves. I'm determined to give it another try this year. Most of my tomatoes are still green but my one little cucumber plant is doing quite well so yesterday I made this:
And who knows, maybe after a little more practice I'll have more in common with my mom than just the same slender fingers.
At least I hope so.
9 comments:
Congratulations on those yummy-looking pickles. I have a great salsa recipe, if you ever want to try canning tomato things again. Also, next month the stake is planning on having a canning class you might be interested in. I'll post it on the food storage post soon. BTW, if you ever have too many tomatoes, you can always send them my way.
I hope you talked to your bishop about that cursing. And the failed bottling attempt. xoxo.
Okay, okay, so I sat down at the computer this afternoon in an attempt to continue the denial that I have mounds of tomatoes in my garden and my peaches are starting to fall on the ground. Canning season is definitely here and I am having serious rebellion about the whole thing! Reading your blog was a good kick in the fanny. Thanks. I guess I needed it.
I love your description of your mother's kitchen. I can almost smell it now! What a fantastic lady! She never ceases to amaze me. She always could and still does anything she puts her mind to do---and you can too. Good luck with your canning.
The Mormon canning thing might just be a genetic disorder. [My non-Mormon friends think it's unusual that I can bake bread, so I can't possibly tell them that I grind my own wheat and make granola from scratch.] I did five batches of assorted new flavors of jam this summer (not including 12 jars of strawberry freezer jam) just to keep fruit from going to waste. Only now do I realize that my family can't possibly eat 30 jars of jam in one year. But that didn't stop me from taking a jar of yummy looking apricot jam from Mom's basement--and I doubt that it will stop me from canning more jam if I have new fruit that might go to waste.
I'm also becoming my mother and I am absolutely thrilled about it!
Your mom, my mom, Aunt Sally, Grandma Olsen... If I turn out like any of them, I'll be pleased as punch.
i feel your frusteration. Just jarred 16 jars of jam. Fun, but a lot of work, and I had my mom beside me the whole time--i may try peaches next--may that is. Hey--I'm in Utah for a bit, we should get together.
Amen to our “mom is amazing.” Looks like you and Joanne are both beating me to becoming like her in your food canning skills.
That jar of pickles is gorgeous! My son Christopher includes Grandma’s Dill Pickles as one of his best-loved foods (any respectable tuna sandwich must include chunks of Grandma’s Dill Pickles—no store-brand will do), and now you know how to make them! I truly do hope to create such a beautiful jar of pickles one of these years. But first I need to pay enough attention to my garden so the cucumber plant doesn’t die.
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