Jam Ramblings

Having come full circle from learning to properly and safely make jams and jellies this past spring to having just taught a class to new MFP trainees on the subject, this seems like a good time to reflect on my canning (and other) experiences this year.

First of all, even after my 10-week training to become a master food preserver I was unclear about pectin, the primary thickening agent in jams and jellies. There are at most four basic ingredients in jams: fruit, sugar, acid and pectin. The first three are pretty obvious, so in preparation for my first teaching experience, I concentrated my effort on the last. After hours researching the subject, I’m certainly more informed, but still far from being an expert.

I began my study with a strong bias towards Pomona Pectin, which is used by most of today’s artisan jam makers. This low-sugar pectin has been around for about 30 years and to this day the company is family-owned and operated. It’s economical by comparison to some of the other pectins on the market and is about as natural as you can get short of making your own pectin from organic apples. This brings up a good point…during my first year of jam making, I was told time and again that pectin is a natural product. It turns out that statement is only partially true. Pectin, found in fruits and some vegetables, is natural. By the time it is processed into a fine powder and sold for jams, jellies, and a wide range of other products, it’s no longer quite so “natural”. Without a doubt, it contains pesticides and many brands contain other additives, including preservatives.

After all of my reading, I have a decent understanding of the science of pectin and why it is critical to follow the recipes that come with each product. Also, I’m now clear on the difference between high-sugar and low-sugar pectins. With that understanding has come a better appreciation for the part sugar plays in jam making. Initially, I was told that sugar was necessary for its preserving qualities. This turns out to be another partially true statement. It is actually the water bath processing that preserves the jam and makes it shelf-stable, not the sugar. If it were the sugar then low- and no-sugar jams would not be shelf-stable. However, as I’ve discovered first hand, sugar does play a big role once the jam is opened. Once opened full-sugar jam lasts for years in the refrigerator. At least, that’s been my personal experience. Not so with low- or no-sugar jam…the lower the sugar content, the shorter the life once opened. I had a opened jar of jam mold in less than a month.

Another half-truth I heard more than once: the quantity of sugar required by the recipe should never be altered. It turns out that this is true when working with high methoxyl (high-sugar) pectins, which require sugar to gel. However, it is not true for their sister low methoxyl pectins. Low-sugar pectin requires calcium to gel rather than sugar allowing the jam maker to reduce the amount of sugar to a range from below 50% to zero.

Sugar preserves color. This is an absolute! The strawberry jams I made for the class were made using different pectin brands. I ended up with about eight different products I took to the class for a tasting. Up to that point, I had not opened or tasted any of the jams. I lined up the jams from the highest sugar to the no-sugar product that contained Splenda. The contrast between jams was shocking. The full-sugar product was a beautiful glossy red as compared to the red-brown (almost a mauve) color of the low-sugar jams as compared to a very artificial looking pink-red color of the Splenda jam. A couple of people in the class took one look at the jam and declared the low-sugar products unappetizing…I had to agree! As for the taste, I believe the consensus was the fruity low-sugar product, despite the color, was the best. Since returning home with eight opened jars of jam, we have been eating them each morning in a race to beat the mold. Seen individually, the low-sugar jams are a very pretty pale (with brown tinges) color and have a very fruit-forward taste. I will avoid serving them along side a full-sugar jam, but then that’s not really a problem, because I refuse to make the latter. This photo shows the amount of sugar required for a classic or full-sugar jam (7/8 of a cup).

I can’t say that I’ve reached a definitive conclusion on which brand or type of pectin is best and the one and only I’ll be using in the future. I still have a half dozen unopened boxes of Pomona, so I’m not giving up on it. I am giving up and giving away my unused boxes of full sugar pectin. Surprisingly, I’ve found a Ball product to be very equivalent to the Pomona. It’s packaged in a jar that makes 22 half-pint jars of jam, it’s slightly more economical than Pomona, may be made in small batches from 2-10 jars at a time, and offers a great website with a flexible-batch calculator and plenty of recipes. Next year my jamming will include both Ball and Pomona and I’ll choose my favorite after I’ve made another couple hundred jars of jam.

As for other things I’ve learned during my 2014 jam journey…I love jelly! I love its clear, semi-transparency. I love how it shimmers and jiggles. And, most of all I love its intense taste. Next year will include jellies of every fruit and if I get that top-of-the-line dehydrator that’s on my Christmas list, there will be fruit leathers made from the pulp from all of my jellies. My technical savvy has also been expanded this year and I’ve learned to make a slide presentation using PowerPoint and been forced to go a bit beyond the basics with Word. All good skills. I’m sure this brings a smile to my truly technical savvy readers as my skills are still remedial, but I may get through 2015 without having to call on them for help.

One last thing I’ve learned…if I’m ever to get back to quilting, I’ll need to learn to say no. My involvement as an MFP this past six months has consumed my time. That combined with the disaster we’ve experienced in the cabin (my quilting studio) this past fall has kept me out of fabric stores (that’s probably a good thing), kept me from ordering must-have quilting books (also good), and kept me from finishing about a dozen projects that were promised by yearend (not so good). This week it’s back to the studio and my studio cat, Ernie. I still have a few weeks before the year ends and maybe I’ll be able to get one of those quilts in the queue completed and have something to report in the first StixChix blog post in months.

Mustard Mission

It’s mid-November. Our birch trees are bare and their leaves are now piled high on the deck.  I just took this picture as a reminder of those beautiful, yellow leaves, because Verne is about to get out the blower and remove every last one in preparation for rain tomorrow. They are impossible to remove after a hard rain (even a light rain), not to mention they become a slippery (and hazardous) mess. This has been our routine for at least a decade now and is the result of a compromise after years of disagreeing on the timing of the raking or brooming of fall leaves (more recently, blowing of leaves). I love to watch the leaves fall from the trees and accumulate on the deck. Like pumpkins, it screams: Autumn! While Verne doesn’t need the extra work of removing the leaves multiple times (God knows, 40 acres keeps the man busy), he was always determined to do it at least two or three times during October-November until about ten years ago when we reached a compromise: the first sign of rain determines the timing for leaf blowing. End of discussion.

What does this have to do with the title: Mustard Mission? The color, of course! The mustard color of the leaves reminded me of our experience last week…making and canning our own mustard. I know a few of you are shaking your heads right now (Sally, in particular). While we both love mustards of all kinds, we really never intended to take on the condiment as a canning project. However…one of my jobs with the Master Food Preservers program is to coordinate public classes. Our November class was one called Holiday Favorites and included an overly ambitious agenda of canned and dehydrated items. As the date neared, I checked with the presenters to see if any needed help preparing their items. Never did I expect my offer to be accepted, but it was and the project was to make two of the three mustards that would be demonstrated: Cranberry Mustard and Octoberfest Beer Mustard, both prepared and then water bath processed.

I read the recipes and was pleased that there was no need to make the 30-minute drive to town…we had everything needed to make both mustards. I’m so obsessed with Penzey’s Spices that it’s rare that I don’t have just the right spice for the job. In this case, we needed powdered mustard and both yellow and brown mustard seeds. Check. Fresh cranberries (I repurposed the cranberries I’d just purchased that week for a conserve). Check. Beer (Verne always keeps a supply of Deschutes Pale Ale in the fridge). Check. We started by soaking the seeds in the liquid (vinegar for the one and beer for the other) for a couple of hours and then proceeded to grind the moistened mustard seeds into a grainy paste, mix it with the other ingredient, and simmer until it was reduced by about one-third; taste (that was our idea); jar and water-bath process. As it turns out that next-to-the-last step, “taste”, was a big mistake. Here’s my warning to anyone making mustard: DO NOT TASTE THE MUSTARD AT THIS POINT!

The beer mustard in particular was unbelievably bitter! It was inedible to say the least. I wouldn’t have given it to my worst enemy, let alone a group (32 people attended the event) of strangers. Well, we canned the Cranberry Mustard as it was tolerable, but the failure went down the disposal. It wasn’t even fit to give to the chickens! I have to say it’s often the mess-ups that prove to be the most valuable learning experiences. A little too late, I sat down at my computer and began to research homemade mustard. It didn’t take long to learn that one should never taste the mustard immediately after making it. Why? Because the natural enzymes in the mustard seeds are activated when the seeds are crushed and combined with water or other liquids and are most potent and bitter when freshly prepared. Apparently, warm water de-activates the enzymes and breaks down some of the pungent compounds, whereas cold water keeps them intact. Likewise, vinegar produces a more mellow product than a full-flavored beer.  We’ll never know if our Octoberfest Beer Mustard would have mellowed had we waited those two or three days. It does appear that we did everything right to produce a full-flavored mustard that packs a powerful punch if that’s the objective! I doubt that we’ll be trying our hand at another beer mustard any time soon. However, the third mustard in the trio was delicious and I plan to make it: Wine Sage Mustard. It was a pale yellow color with bits of minced sage leaves and a base of white wine. Yum!

Here’s a few other things I’ve learned about making mustard. Mustard is about as simple to make as jam. There are just two essential ingredients: mustard powder (or seeds) and a liquid to bind the spice. Its heat is directly related to the type of seed used: yellow (sometimes called white) is the mildest, brown and black seeds are much hotter and more pungent. The liquid used to bind the mustard may add flavor and additional heat or pungency based on the liquid’s reaction to the enzymes. The mildest mustards and longest lasting are made with yellow mustard seeds and lots of vinegar, while the hottest mustards are made with the darker seeds and use beer as a liquid base. Mustards last for months in the refrigerator, although they will tame over time and lose much of their pungency within about six months whether they are homemade or commercially produced. I’ve heard people say and read various internet sources that suggest mustard is shelf stable without water bath processing. This is absolutely NOT TRUE! Freshly made mustard either needs to be refrigerated or water bath processed to make it shelf-stable. Don’t believe everything you read (with the exception of my Blog)! Oh, one more thing...ground yellow mustard seeds are a beautiful pale shade of yellow. It is the addition of turmeric that gives French's mustard it's brilliant yellow color.

This mission is far from complete. Expect more about mustard in the future…

A Jelly Journal

Maybe I should rename this blog post “Watch Your Step”…I wrote it two weeks ago, but before I could post it and before Verne and I made our trip to Half Moon Bay where I was to teach a class on Jams and Jellies, I took a tumble and have been house-ridden ever since. To make a long story short, I stupidly walked into the cabin bathroom during its renovation (“renovation” is probably a poor choice of words as it suggests we had a choice here; the bedroom and bathroom floors and part of the walls have been demolished in order to repair extensive damage done by an infestation of powder beetles and dry rot) and fell through the open floor. A 2”x6” floor joist kept me from falling through to the basement. I’d like to think the resulting damage to my body was less than had I fallen through to the floor below, but those positive thoughts haven’t eased the pain.  I left the house for the first time yesterday (eight days since the accident) and thought I’d die before I could get back home to the couch. This recovery may take longer than expected. On a positive note, I feel great when I’m standing so our fall preserving (pears, citrus, cranberries) will continue.

Here’s my original blog post written before my mishap…

Jelly Making - Day 1:

Have I mentioned lately that I love to can? I’m writing this while I wait for the water in the canner to come up to temp. I’m getting ready to process my first batch of real jelly. I say “real”, because my first and only experience was during my MFP training in the spring when we made grape jelly from commercial unsweetened grape juice, rather than real Concord grapes. Although it was loaded with sugar (7 cups to 5 cups of juice), the taste and texture were perfect and it would have fooled any Welch’s grape jelly aficionado. That reminds me of a little jelly trivia I learned recently…during World War II grapelade, developed by a man named Welch in 1918, along with sliced bread (also invented around that same time) and peanut butter were included in soldiers’ rations. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich was born. Extremely popular amongst the troops, when soldiers returned home after the war they demanded more of the grapelade. Today, Welch’s grape jelly out sells all other jellies.

Back to today’s canning project and the reason I’m making jelly, something I swore I’d never do. You may remember that I agreed to teach an October class on jams and jellies to new MFP trainees. I’ve been anxiously preparing for the class, both academically (hours of research and a written PowerPoint presentation) as well as practically (hours in the kitchen testing different pectins by making batch after batch of strawberry jam). The Moser Test Kitchen has turned out well over 50 jars of the stuff (I’ve stopped counting) and given away most of it. However, this is a jams and jellies class…emphasis on the jellies. I’ve put off making jelly because, frankly, I’ve felt for a long time that jelly is just a cheater jam without the chunks of fruit. It’s a jam wannabe for sissies. Joking aside (actually, there’s truth in most jokes), Welch’s grape jelly is about my only experience with the product and I have been biased against jelly making since I started jamming two years ago. But, how could I teach a group of trainees without having at least once experienced jelly making?! Thus, our jelly-making project today.

In keeping with the theme (strawberries) Saturday morning Verne and I got up early and went in search of fresh strawberries. I’d noticed a few weeks ago that a couple of fields in the Clements area (a good hour from home) had been replanted with a fall crop and were close to picking. We arrived at the Clements Ridge Produce stand to find strawberries for sale. I took that as a good sign. We came home with six boxes of freshly picked berries and this morning we got up and completed the second step of the process (the first was finding the berries): boiling the fruit for 10 minutes and then placing it in a jelly bag, which allows it to drip over a bowl for several hours. Pressing or squeezing the mixture to speed up the process is a no-no, as the jelly will cloud. Here are a few pictures of this initial step.

The rest of the jelly-making process is the same as making jam, just a little more foam to skim before the beautiful, clear jelly is ladled into the jars. I'm calling it "bubble scum"...a new term for jammers!

It was beginning to gel before we put the jars into the canner - that’s good news (maybe). What we’re after is a clear jelly that jiggles when moved, yet holds its shape when removed from the jar. I’m hoping we have a winner. What fun! And, I can now say I’ve made jelly from scratch.

Jelly Making - Day 2:

I was up early this morning excited about trying our strawberry jelly. For you readers who are not a trained food preserver, jams or jellies must sit for a minimum of 12 hours after being removed from the water bath canner. The point of this waiting period is to allow the product to completely cool (naturally) and hopefully assure a good seal. Well, the seal was perfect, but the jelly was not. It was clear and would most definitely hold its shape when removed from the jar, if, in fact, it could be removed from the jar. It was solid. I shook the jar looking for the jiggle, but there was no movement at all. Our first attempt at making jelly was a failure! Disappointed!!!!

Jelly Making - Day 3:

Two hours round trip drive to Clements Ridge Produce stand for more strawberries and we were back in the kitchen by noon for another try at making jelly. We’d made our first batch with Pomona Pectin, a product I’m determined to love, so rather than trying another pectin, like Sure Jell or Ball, we decided to give Pomona another try. This time, though, we reduced the amount of pectin by 25% hoping that alone would give us a softer gel. Also, in discussing our failure we suspected that we’d boiled the jelly a bit too long after adding the sugar and pectin. The directions said to bring the fruit to a boil, add the sugar and pectin, and bring back to a boil. That last step should take no more than 1-2 minutes. Apparently, we didn’t bring it to an “angry” boil the first time, because it took about 5 minutes to return to a boil. Hmmmm…I’m finding it’s the little things that cause the flops when making jams and jellies.

Jelly Making - Day 4:

Again, we were up early and anxious to try our strawberry jelly. The seal was good and the color looked great. I opened a jar and spooned some onto a plate…it was perfect; blue ribbon quality! It is clear, holds its shape, jiggles when moved, and as an added bonus the taste is amazing…pure strawberry goodness. Success! I now feel like I have the creds to teach Saturday’s class.

P.S. I’m again adding this to my original blog entry. It’s probably apparent, but I’ll tell you anyway…I didn’t get to teach the Saturday class of new trainees in Half Moon Bay, because I spent my Saturday flat on my back in bed drugged out on pain meds. 

Fun Fermenting

I love kitchen stuff. I’m like a kid (and some adults) with a comic book when the William Sonoma, Sur la Table, or Chef’s Catalogs arrive. I browse them over and over, dog-earing pages of interesting new kitchen equipment and gadgets. Just writing this reminded me of one of my favorite new tools that Lauren gave me for Mother’s Day. I hadn’t planned to talk about it, but I’m so excited about it and this is the perfect forum. It’s called a Kuhn Rikon Smart Lid. The lid snugly fits both our 10” and 12” fry pans, but also may be used with smaller pans; it's clear on top so you can see what’s happening in the pan and it has a venting system that allows you to let the steam escape or it may be closed tight keeping moisture in. It’s a bit expensive at $30, but well worth the price. Check it out.

Okay, back to the point of this story. During my MFP training, we learned about fermenting and made sauerkraut as an example of that technique. It was incredibly easy and turned out well. It was while I was eating the sauerkraut at our graduation dinner that a fellow-MFPer told me she’d bought her father a fermenting system from a store on Etsy. He hadn’t used it yet, but the design she described sounded interesting. I wasted no time and ordered a starter kit from the shop, Primal Kitchen. The starter kit included a glass crock with a special lid (Kraut Kap) with a hole in the middle and an airlock device that securely fits into the silicone seal surrounding the hole. The design is unique, because it allows the carbon dioxide to escape, while not allowing oxygen to enter the system (or anything else while it sits in a closet for over a month fermenting). Also included in the kit was a crock rock Mason jar weight, which keeps the kraut submerged in brine. It sounded good and looked impressive and I ordered it. We started our first batch in August and not being able to wait any longer, we ate it this past weekend. This story isn’t really about the recipe we used, but this is a perfect time to share it, so I’ll digress again. 

This is a recipe a friend shared with us and includes our changes. Place a quart of sauerkraut in a Dutch oven. Top it with a layer of sliced onions (I can’t stand partially cooked onions, so we lightly caramelized them). Next, add a layer of sliced apple that has been cored and peeled and a layer of sliced potatoes (Yukon Gold are my favs). Finally, top with a couple of fresh sausages (for example, Apple Sausage from Lockeford). Pour over these stacked ingredients about 4 ounces of beer or white wine and cook on the stove top for about 35 minutes or until done. At the end of the cooking time, remove the sausages and either quickly brown them in a frying pan or grill pan. Serve. It’s an easy one-pot meal and very tasty. The sauerkraut was the star and it didn’t disappoint.

Back to the fermenting jar. Our results were perfect. Never had a problem with loss of brine, slime, or scum and no bad smells in our pantry where it resides; all problems that can occur when making sauerkraut. We spent no more than 30 minutes total preparing the cabbage for the fermenting process. That’s it.  After that we just checked it weekly to make sure the cabbage remained submerged. The closed system seemed to keep the brine from evaporating and the level actually increased slightly at first and then remained constant. It couldn’t be simpler.

What’s the point of fermenting? Aside from the incredibly beneficial bacteria created, lactobacillus, I find the process absolutely fascinating. To think that two ingredients, cabbage and salt…

…placed in a fairly warm room (68° to 72° F) for a month or more result in something edible is beyond me. We happen to love the taste, so that’s a bonus. Now, if you don’t like the taste of sauerkraut, but do like a good dill pickle, then there’s still an opportunity for you to begin fermenting. Before we started our second batch of kraut today, we started three quarts of Kirby cucumbers fermenting in a salt-water brine and a few other non-essential additions to the fermenting process, dill weed, garlic, red peppers, cabbage leaves, and grape leaves for crispness. 

Preparing the pickles for the fermentation process was very similar to making sauerkraut. This time, though, we just used a 1-quart large mouth canning jar. The extra Kraut Kaps came with my second order from Primal Kitchen. I know what you’re thinking (second order?)…LOL! Here’s the web address: www.etsy.com/shop/PrimalKitchen.  Order a starter kit and have a little fun fermenting. 

Trials and Tribulations of an MFPer

Don’t think I’ve been idle because I haven’t blogged since the first of this month. I have been canning like crazy. Actually, Verne would probably say I’m a crazy canner or just plain crazy. It’s true. I have a passion for putting food by, in general. But, it’s not canning that’s kept me from blogging.

Less than three months ago I graduated from the MFP training and was faced with the community service hours I’d agreed to complete prior June 2015. This thought ranked right up there with facing a dentist appointment. I fully intended to do it, but I wanted a painless experience with plenty of novocaine. Not being one to procrastinate, I wasted no time and agreed to assume certain responsibilities within the organization, including a co-coordinator role (Vera is my cohort) for 2014-15 public classes. I envisioned spending my volunteer hours at home in front of my computer working off my time by preparing handouts on food preservation. Right up my alley!

I volunteered for the position on the first Monday in August. By the second Saturday of the month I was standing in front of a classroom of strangers demonstrating water bath canning...this couldn’t be further from my plan. I’ve spent hours re-working class handouts and creating checklists to be used by the presenters. However, with September’s class right around the corner, I’m now being forced to interface with the other volunteers.  None of these people seem to check their email more than weekly…frustrating! I’m a “multiple-times-per-day kind of girl,” so by my third email, I’m no longer gently coaxing them to do their part, but I’m rather bluntly screaming (all caps does the job): “This is my third attempt to reach you. Will you PLEASE send me the DAMN RECIPE you plan to demo!!!”? My last line of attack will be to go low-tech and pick up the phone and call them. In fairness to these volunteers, they are just that: volunteers; and, I’m sure they don’t approach this assignment with the same sense of urgency that I do. As Public Education Coordinator (Top Dog), the buck stops here and I’m feeling the pressure! This kind of stress was not in my original plan to earn hours. I can already see this is going to be a thankless job and within a few short months everyone will hate me…the very reason I was hoping to stay behind the scenes. Double Damn! I may just let my much-nicer cohort do the calling. We’ll do the good cop, bad cop thing and see how that works. My hours? Let me just say 50 hours is laughable. I’ll have them by the end of October and by yearend will be so fully immersed in this program that I’ll never find my way out and have no time left for all of the things I so enjoy doing (alone). Goodbye canning. Goodbye quilting. Goodbye life as I’ve known it (and liked it).

On a more pleasant note, sometime in August I managed to find enough personal time to browse an email from William Sonoma and order a Kilner Jam Pot. I’d never heard of a jam pot, but based on the description I knew it was something I needed. Strike that last word…it was something I “wanted”. After using it a dozen times I now know that it is something every jammer needs! What an amazing pot! Here’s the sales pitch: “The Kilner Jam Pan is a hard wearing stainless steel pan featuring a pouring lip and carrying handle…it has an 8 litre capacity with an internal litre and pint measuring gauge with an encapsulated base for even heat distribution.” When I removed it from the box and saw its size I regretted not buying a smaller one, although it was only offered in the 8-litre size. It was huge! It only took one use and I realized that the large size (not a single splatter on my stove), the heavy bottom (no scorching), and the pint markings on the inside (great for reductions) were three of its best features. 

In addition to preserves, we’ve used it for blanching fruits and veggies and making extra large batches of sauces to be frozen. I recently received a Chef’s Catalog and they have a similar jam pot called the Maslin Pan in both a large 10-quart and a smaller 6-quart size. Both come with a lid. My Kilner is lidless. (:  Over 70 customers have left rave reviews of the Maslin pot giving it a near perfect average score of 5! Hmmmmm…I’m seriously thinking about ordering the baby Maslin for small-batch preserving and more.

In my last post I confessed to several failures in the kitchen. While we haven’t achieved perfect success, our failure rate is certainly on the decline…leaving me few bloopers to blog. No one wants to hear about the successes. The good thing about less than perfect results is the research it prompts and the stories I have to tell while I do public demos. (Yes, I’ll be doing more of them. I got through the last without fainting or vomiting, so I’m thinking they will just get easier with more experience.) Our only problem this month was again with peaches. We had planned to make another trip to the Fruit Bowl to buy more peaches. This time, O’Henry’s. I’ve been hearing about O’Henry peaches from a couple of my friends since I began making jam in 2013. I missed their season last year and was determined to time our trip appropriately this year. The O’Henry peach was developed in the 1970’s by UC-Davis as the perfect canning peach and I’ve been anxious to compare it to the Elberta. Well, our trip to buy O’Henry’s was planned and then, unfortunately, it had to be postponed a few weeks. I’m learning that the window of opportunity to purchase various varieties of fruit and vegetables is often as short as two to three weeks. By waiting those couple of weeks, we nearly missed the season. The day we went, the last of the O’Henry’s had been picked that morning. It was a near miss. However, being a positive person, I just took our timing as a good sign (and a reminder of the time-sensitive nature of canning from buying to preserving). We went home with almost 30 pounds of peaches and got busy in the kitchen. This time we did it by the book: read the recipe, staged our canning paraphernalia, blanched the peaches and promptly placed them into a cold water bath with ascorbic acid, filled the wide-mouth jars with the peeled peaches, and processed according to the recipe...just as I was taught. Sue, my food preservation teacher/guru, would be proud of me.

By the book, and yet the peaches boiled over during the processing turning the canning water to a pale shade of pink and they continued to spew out simple syrup for five minutes after being removed from the canner? And, why did I get an inch of frothy white bubbles at the top of one jar? I didn’t panic this time and refrigerate them all after canning (to be used in peach margaritas). The seal was good, even though the liquid was well below the ½ inch headspace line. Here are a couple of possibilities for boil over or siphoning, as it is sometimes called. Too little headspace (clearly not a problem now), rings may be too tight or not tight enough, or the jars may be packed too tightly which can start a siphon. I suspect the latter. I like to tightly pack the peaches knowing they will reduce in size during processing leaving them floating about 1-1/2” above the bottom once they cool. As for the frothy bubbles? 

I don’t know the answer to that one. They are obviously tiny air bubbles that occurred after the jar was removed from the canner. The question is why? I’ve spent over two hours on the web reading self-taught canning experts’ theories and am no closer to an answer. I did accuse my helper of leaving soap in the jar, but he assured me the jars were rinsed twice and then spent over 30 minutes in the water bath canner heating. So, I crossed that off my list of possibilities. If you have a scientific explanation or a truly original idea, send it to me. I’ve got to get to the bottom of this. One last thing, I’m looking for a new assistant. After accusing the last one of leaving soap in the jar, he got mad and quit, so I’m kind of in a bind here.

More Confessions from the Master of Mess-Ups

When the girls were in elementary school they would occasionally do something that was not quite to their liking and they would say, “I made a mess-up.” (Probably all kids say that, but it was especially cute coming from our two precious daughters.) I like the term and use it, not only because it conjures up sweet memories of our children, but it also helps soften my true reaction to a failed project, which is to scream, “S**T, another failure!!!” Most of our attempts at preserving food have been successful and go unmentioned. It’s these less than perfect results, these failures, which haunt me a bit. So, I need to use this forum one more time (providing there are no more failures) to consider and hopefully explain why each one of this month’s canning mess-ups occurred.

The peaches…a special trip to Lodi to buy them and an afternoon of hot work in the kitchen to can nine quarts of the things, and what do we have? Nine quarts of over-processed, brown-tinged Elberta’s in the refrigerator/freezer. We managed to make every mistake in the book and then some. The first lesson in canning: Focus, minimize all distractions. Not only were we not focused and did not go over the recipe, but we were preoccupied the entire time with taking photos (remember Ann, the reporter who needed pictures for her article and the reason we were canning peaches in the first place?). Next, we either didn’t remember from canning peaches last year (yes, we’d done this before!), but once peeled they need to be placed in water with lemon juice or ascorbic acid, which minimizes the browning from oxidation. Like apples, peaches will brown very quickly if left exposed to the air. And they did! We were cold-packing the peaches, which means the uncooked peaches are put into a hot jar, a hot simple syrup is poured over them, a warm lid and ring applied, and then the jars are placed in a boiling water bath canner and processed according to the recipe. Verne had prepared several quart jars, both regular and large mouth. I grabbed one of the jars and attempted to stuff the peach halves through its “regular” mouth opening (kind of like stuffing a size 12 arse into size 10 jeans). Not a chance for those extra-large peaches to go through a 3” opening. It took a few jars of mutilated peaches before we went searching for additional wide-mouth jars, which then had to be thoroughly washed and prepared for canning. Time was ticking. When we were finally ready to process the jars, everything was room-temp to cold…the jars, the simple syrup, the lids. This has to explain our catastrophic results. They didn't seal! In fact, the syrup bubbled over reducing its level in each jar by a good ½” and creating a sticky bond between the lid and glass jar, which a less informed canner might consider a seal…not me, though. I was not about to be fooled by a false (sticky) seal and all of the jars went into the fridge. According to Lauren, an “epic fail” as the peaches were for her! Here's the $50+ picture...

I’m scheduled to teach a class on jams and jellies in the fall. My preparation has included several hours of research on the various commercial pectins available as well as homemade pectin and, of course, the slow-cook or reduction techniques to making a no-added pectin jam. Rather than just research the topic, I decided to test each of these pectins/techniques by using them to make a batch of strawberry jam. I chose that particular fruit because strawberries are plentiful and inexpensive this time of year. Also, if you remember reading my previous "canning mess-ups" blog, I had severe fruit float with my new Pomona Pectin and assumed (bad idea to assume) that it was due to the brand of pectin I was using. I ended the blog post by saying “the jury is still out (on Pomona).” Well, the jury has returned with a NG verdict, Not Guilty. Every jar of pectin jam I’ve made so far (four different brands) has had significant fruit float (solids at the top, jelly at the bottom). I have yet to make my no-added pectin strawberry jam, which is a slow cook reduction. However, I’d be willing to bet money that it will be perfect with no fruit float. My theory is this: the quick cooking time used with added-pectin jams does not sufficiently remove/release the air from the fruit making it lighter than the jelled liquid in which it’s preserved. It thus has a tendency to float to the top. A reduction jam is cooked for 30-40 minutes, constantly stirring, until the mixture has reduced by one-third to one-half. At the end of the cooking time, it is one cohesive glob (technical term) and (this is my theory…you won’t find it in a food science book) much of the air has been removed due to the constant stirring and the long cooking time. Secondly, the liquid has jelled sufficiently to keep the fruit particles suspended. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it!

We now arrive at our third failure in July: Pickles. I know this sounds like an excuse, but by reading past blog posts you know that I readily admit to my failures and shortcomings…It was a very bad recipe! I was so excited to be taking our second big step in our journey into home food preservation…Making Pickles. I was hoping for a pickle something like Claussen or Vlasic, but didn’t really expect perfect results from our first attempt. Sadly, they didn’t turn out to be like Claussen or Vlasic or any other pickle I’ve ever eaten and they were so bad, so salty they were inedible. No, I didn’t expect perfection, but certainly was not prepared for total Failure. We tossed the six-pint jars, spent an afternoon commiserating, and got up the next day with a mission to find the perfect dill pickle recipe.  We searched our cookbooks as well as the Internet. With few exceptions, all dill pickle recipes call for large amounts of salt. I’ve found one recipe by Ball that uses their commercially-available pickling concoction that we’re going to try next. If we don’t have better results, our plan is to put quick pickles on the back burner (pun intended) and move on to fermented pickles for now…a much longer and more intimidating process, but it does seem to use less salt.  For now, I’d avoid eating pickles at the Moser’s and just stick to the peach margaritas!