Maybe Not Shakespeare's Hell-Broth...But Better!

Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, For a charm of powerful trouble, Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.

                                                                                    William Shakespeare

I’ve always been good about making and saving chicken and beef broth, but this past week I made veggie broth! Well, technically it was corn broth, but it will be a fabulous base for crab soup or corn chowder or any recipe that calls for vegetable broth. If you’ve been too intimidated to make meat broth, this broth won’t scare you a bit.

This time of year you can buy fresh, local corn cheap and nothing tastes yummier in the whole wide world (except dark chocolate and a glass of good red wine…). I harvested our heirloom corn this week which was organically grown, but disappointingly tough and not so sweet. I shucked it and fed the leaves to the horses who thought it might be Christmas come early. Then I blanched the corn in boiling water for two minutes, before plunging it in to a sink full of ice cold water to stop the cooking process. I saved the boiling water to make the broth.

Tomato Wisdom

I don’t know about your house, but it is high tomato season at my house. We are virtually drowning in the sensous rosy red fruit (although some of our heirloom varieties are pink, yellow, orange, and my favorite – rainbow). So far, I've canned 27 pints of salsa, 24 quarts of tomato sauce, 18 pints of diced tomatoes, and 16 pints of pizza sauce. And still the tomatoes ripen. There’s no time to write while the sun is shining, so here’s five little nuggets of wisdom I’ve gleaned from the tomatoes this year:

 

1. You don’t have to do things the way everyone else does it. You don’t have to peel the tomatoes. If you’re making puree or pizza sauce, or even tomato sauce, just clean them super well, core and seed them, and run them through the food processor until they are liquefied. Skipping all that peeling saves endless time.
2. You don’t have to stick to your plan. Use up the most ripe tomatoes first. Let go of your best laid plans and use up the over-ripe mortgage lifters first if the Amish paste tomatoes are still firm. Once a couple tomatoes start to rot in your containers, the fruit flies and ungodly stench descend. Get to work.
3. Sometimes it’s best to put off until tomorrow what you really can’t do today.  If you don’t have time and you are overrun with tomatoes, clean them really well and put them in plastic bags in your freezer. If they're destined to be sauce anyway, freezing them won’t hurt –promise. You can can at Christmas if you want. Or use them as you need them, provided you have the space to store them in the freezer. Our cow arrived a few weeks ago, so all the space in our freezer is spoken for.
4. Cheating is permitted when there’s nothing at stake except your sanity. You can stretch out your work time by refrigerating your tomatoes. We’ve had them wait two weeks on us with very little loss by picking and putting them directly in the fridge.
5. Even when you’re busy, it’s important to feed your children well. Plant cherry tomatoes and when your kids are hungry for a snack, send them to eat directly off the plant – saves time, dishes, and money!

Using the deep fryer base to can outside. Water heats faster and it keeps the heat out of the kitchen.

Top Ten Reasons We Can

I had a hot date with my hubby last night. It got pretty steamy and altogether messy. We canned tomatoes until the wee hours. It’s that time of year. Twenty pints of pizza sauce and nine quarts of tomato sauce. And still the tomatoes keep coming.

We’re taking a break and moving on to peaches today. Bought a huge bushel of seconds peaches ready and ripe. This weekend’s date will involve skinning the luscious beauties and squeezing the pits out of them before we cook them in to peachsauce (just like applesauce only peaches and no sugar!), peach Barbeque sauce, and maybe some peach jam or syrup. It will definitely get sticky.

Canning can be a solitary endeavor, but it’s much more fun with company and music (and some wine). Sometimes when I’m elbow deep in the mess I wonder why we do this. It would be so much easier to buy tomato sauce at the store. And even if the price of organic tomato sauce can be dear, I’m fairly sure my time is worth just as much.

Inspired by my son's excellent blog, How To Kill Your Characters, (It’s all manner of musings on Dungeons and Dragons on the surface, but underneath it’s pretty philosophical and just plain good writing. He puts me to shame.) which is filled with Top Ten Lists, I present:

The Top Ten Reasons why I can each summer:


1 Popping the lid off a jar of tomato sauce in the dead of winter returns summer if only for a meal. All the flavors of five different heirloom tomatoes in one jar is divine. No can from the store, no matter how exclusive and expensive the brand, can compare.


2 My youngest child considers homemade peachsauce such a special treat, he opts for it over all manner of junk food.


3 Instead of empty calories and chemicals in store bought pancake syrup, we slop on homemade blueberry syrup any time of year not just special occasions.


4 Once you grow accustomed to homemade applesauce it’s pretty much impossible to eat that mealy mush they sell at the grocery store.


5  I feel connected to my mother and grandmother and all the women before them as I “put up” healthy, homegrown food for my family.


6 I can’t stand to waste anything. And I can’t stick to one kind of tomato or cucumber. How else could I keep from throwing all the extras on the compost pile?


7 I like cherries, blueberries, and peaches too much to eat them only a few weeks a year and I can’t bring myself to buy (or pay the price for) produce shipped from the other side of the globe in the dead of winter.


8 It may consume my time in the summer, but it saves me time in shopping trips to the store the rest of the year. We always have sauces, fruits, veggies, and jams on hand year round.


9 I get incredible nerdy satisfaction from hearing the jar lids “pop”, writing the contents on the lids, and lining them up neatly on the shelf.


10 It’s one tiny step I can take toward living more self-sufficiently. If I had my way we’d live off the grid on the side of mountain, but thankfully (for my kids at least), I married a man who enjoys the marvels of modern conveniences. Although he makes a damn fine lumberjack, I must say.

I hope you’re inspired to get canning yourself! If you need some tips or ideas check out some previous posts

Canning foibles, canning basics, canning tomatoes, applesauce , more canning ideas

Or locate a copy of the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving – it will tell you everything you need to can anything. Canning isn’t rocket science, I promise. You can do this!

Saving Some Summer

I’ve been canning again. The counter is littered with lids, rings, towels, and jars. 26 quarts of tomato sauce, 15 pints of pizza sauce, and 10 quarts of peach sauce are now crammed in the cupboard. Round two is on the horizon as hot weather is predicted this week and the next several thousand tomatoes are likely to ripen. I love canning, but it can consume my day, trash my kitchen, and inevitably includes at least one panic stricken moment when a pot boils over or I forget some crucial step. This weekend I only dumped half a jar of minced garlic in the pizza sauce (forgot I’d removed the shaker lid) and broke a quart jar trying to cram it in to a full canner of boiling water. Not bad, especially for me.


I love the Laura Ingalls feeling of seeing all the jars lined up on the shelf. Very satisfying. This year I was even interviewed for a canning article in Hobby Farm Magazine, so now I’m an expert (as far as they know). If you’ve never canned, give it a shot. It doesn’t take much to get started and the pay off is huge – self sufficiency, self confidence, and self satisfaction. You can do this. Plus, you’ll open a jar of tomato sauce in February and it will bring back summer (or at least that moment when the tomato sauce boiled over the edge and poured in to the jenn air vent).

This morning as I lined up the equipment to get going on the peaches, a guy who is helping us with a dry wall project walked through the kitchen. He remarked that so few people can anymore. He doesn’t know anyone who does except his Grandma. He laughed and said, “It’s like they made us all forget how to grow things and can, and now we’re all going organic but we have to pay other people big bucks to grow and can our food for us.” So true, but we don’t really have to pay other people for it. You can do it.

Here are two easy projects you can do if you have ten minutes or two hours. First the quick one. Did someone give you a pot of basil? Sure you might use a few leaves in a recipe here and there, maybe even whip up a batch of fresh basil, but what do you do with the rest? Before a frost threatens – cut down your basil and harvest the leaves (it won’t survive the winter, really it won’t). If you don’t have a basil plant, check out the farmers market for fresh basil or ask your friends and neighbors. Basil is so easy to grow many people have it, and this time of year it’s leggy and everyone’s over the novelty of it.

Take as many leaves as you can, wash them, and toss them in a food processor. Next add about 1/3 as much pine nuts as basil to the processor – fresh, toasted, whatever kind you like. Add about the same amount of fresh grated parmesan cheese. Then pour in a few tablespoons olive oil (best to start out conservative with the oil and add more if you need it to fix the consistency). Process your ingredients until you have pesto. Add more oil if needed. Save some to eat fresh, but with the rest, fill ice cube trays and freeze. After the pesto is frozen, pop the cubes out and fill a plastic bag. Keep these in your freezer to add to soups and sauces. You can even just melt one with some butter to pour over noodles or veggies in the dead of winter when you need some summer.

Peach Sauce is very simple to make and can. If you’re not buying my rant about the joy of canning, you can also freeze it. Head to a farm market and buy a half bushel of peach seconds. No sense in spending the money for firsts when you’re only going to peel and crush them anyway. You’ll spend less and usually get riper peaches to start with.

When you get your peaches home, leave them out to ripen. It’s much easier to make peach sauce with ripe peaches. Unripe ones are hard to peel. Before you start you’ll need four pots – one to boil water in to loosen the skins, one to cool the peaches, one to put the peel and pits in, and one to put the good peach meat in. If you’re canning, you’ll want to start your canner at the same time. I fill my canner with water and the jars I’m planning to use. You can read the basics by clicking here.

Step one is to boil water and keep it on a low boil on the stove. Working with a few peaches at a time, drop them in to the hot water for 30seconds to a minute. Then remove them and plunge them in to the cold water to cool them. I leave a bowl in the sink with cold water that I change periodically to keep the peaches clean.

Once the peaches have cooled, you can slip the skins off. Then take the peach and crush it with your hands, pulling out the pit. Repeat this process until you have a full pot of peaches ready to cook. You’ll want to squirt some lemon juice in the pot periodically to keep the peaches from turning brown. As you heat the peaches, use a potato masher to break up the peaches. I usually crush them pretty well with my hands as I go (great for working out your frustrations), but a potato masher helps make the whole mess a little more uniform. Add sugar if you’d like. I add about 1 cup for a big 7 quart pot. But you do it to your taste.

Heat the peaches, stirring frequently until you get a nice, quiet boil going. Then boil for about 10 minutes, again stirring frequently. (this is one of those pots that MUST be watched – it’s a mess when it boils over, trust me I know) Now they’re ready to go in the jars and be processed. If you’re not canning, you can put the lid on the pot and let the peach sauce cool before serving or freezing. Yum. My kids love peach sauce and we eat it all year long as a switch from applesauce. It goes great for a snack, served on the side with a pork meal or warmed up over ice cream.

Right about now the peaches are going fast – so get moving on this project. It’s almost fall. Time to collect the harvest. Time to fill the pantry and get ready for the winter that will be here in no time. Be sure to save some summer by canning, freezing, or preserving. If this winter is anything like the last, you’ll need it!

Tomato, Tomatoh, Don't Call the Whole Thing Off!

Tomato, Tomahto, this year I was tempted to call the whole thing off. Our tomatoes were a disaster thanks to the Tomato blight. Each year I can over a hundred jars of diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, pizza sauce, and salsa, enough to last us the year. This year that ain’t happening. Depressing is what it is. Last week I bought 25 pounds of tomatoes from a local farmer and did put up 11 jars of salsa and some pizza sauce. The tomatoes weren’t heirloom or organic, not even close to it, but store bought salsa isn’t homemade tasting or even close to it. Same goes for pizza sauce. So I spent a morning deep in tomatoes and that reminded me that even if I’m not canning tomatoes this year, that doesn’t mean other people aren’t.

The easiest way to can tomatoes is to simply slip off the skins, quarter and seed them and can them. Takes no time at all. Removing tomato skins is simple. Heat a pan of boiling water and plunk your tomatoes in for a minute. Remove them and put them in ice cold water. Now the skins are easily removed. The Ball Jar Book recommends scoring the bottom of the tomato with a little X before you place them in the boiling water to make the skins slip right off.

Tomatoes have a few other issues when it comes to handling them. Use only stainless steel pans. The acid in tomatoes can react with other types (copper, brass, aluminum, or iron) and then they sometimes taste really funky. I just learned recently that I shouldn’t be using my big wooden spoon to stir them either because the wood can absorb flavors. This discovery led me to wonder what else I don’t know about cooking tomatoes.

Since I’m not actually canning many tomatoes this year, I had a few moments to read about canning tomatoes. I was excited to learn the reason why my sauce sometimes comes out too runny no matter how long I boil it. It has to do with the enzymes that are released when you crush tomatoes. I feel like a scientist just talking about enzymes. The only thing I really know about enzymes are they get going when something sits around at room temperature for awhile (like yogurt) and they can do good things. They’re the reason dry aged meat tastes so great.

When tomatoes are cut or crushed, a natural enzyme is activated which causes the solid and liquids to separate. So if you’re canning you want to begin heating your tomatoes the moment you begin cutting or crushing them. I was excited by this knowledge, so I tested it out on a small batch of pizza sauce made from the tomatoes I bought from a local farmer. I skinned them, seeded them and put them through my food processor in small batches and immediately tossed them in to the pan to begin cooking. I think there was still too much lag time, but my pizza sauce came out much thicker than usual. I can’t wait to figure out how this will play out with my spaghetti sauce next year. Hopefully I’ll retain this knowledge until next tomato season!

One more point of reference on tomatoes. Lemon juice is always something I debate with myself over. Add it or don’t add it. This year a friend who had plenty of tomatoes called me when she was knee-deep in canning them and we debated the lemon juice issue at length. I thought if I kept her on the phone long enough, she might offer me the tomatoes just to end the conversation. No dice. Anyway, the question is do you or do you not have to add lemon juice to your diced tomatoes when canning them in a hot bath canner. I know, I know, it would have kept you on the edge of your seat I’m sure. Most references do tell you to put lemon juice in the jar before you add the tomatoes to ensure that the acidity is high enough to keep the tomatoes stable in the jar. So it’s probably a good idea. Having never done this, I had to take the other point and say that many homegrown, heirloom tomatoes may have plenty of acid and do just fine on their own. I’ve never had a jar go bad (knock on wood) and I’ve never added the lemon juice. And then we consulted several texts and decided that since we don’t have a lab that can test the acidity of our tomatoes (and I’m not truly certain what the correct number would be anyway), we should err on the side of caution and go with the juice. So now I’m a little paranoid, and I will probably add the lemon juice next year.

Amazing that I learned so much about canning tomatoes this year without canning very many. Maybe there was a reason I got the blight. Maybe the powers that be knew I didn’t know enough and I certainly didn’t have the time to can a hundred jars this year. Live and learn. That’s what it’s all about.

Pee Before Canning

We learn some of life’s most important lessons when we are in kindergarten. Robert Fulgham wrote a lovely book on that premise. One of those critical lessons is to always use the potty before setting off on any adventure. I dragged my canner out for the first time this season and learned the hard way that one really should use the potty BEFORE one starts canning. Now, that’s not advice you find in the Ball Jar Book of Canning and Preserving!

I’m going to make that my first rule of canning – use the potty first. Now, my second rule of canning is PAY ATTENTION. Not that canning is difficult. I’m going to attempt to convince all you people who are afraid of jars and lids and boiling water and fresh produce that it’s quite simple. It’s so simple in fact that I tend to do a little too much multi-tasking while I’m canning. That might be OK when you are canning jars number 265 and 266, but when you are canning jars 1-7, you need to be focused on what you are doing.

I’ll tell you the story of this past Friday morning, not so much to amuse you or make you feel sorry for me, but to help you see that even those of us who have canned hundreds of jars, can still screw it up. And that’s OK. The thing is not to let it discourage you.

My tale really starts on Thursday morning when I dragged my three children to the blueberry patch to pick blueberries. This was their third trip there and let’s just say they were less than enthusiastic. One (and she will remain nameless) refused to get out of the car when we got there and rather than making a scene that might make some suspect me of child indentured servant crimes, I let her stay there with her attitude and her book. The boys and I hiked out to the fields. The smallest found a very full bush and parked himself under it and ate his fill and then spent the rest of the time calling, “Are we ever going to leave?” to which I always replied, “Yes,” because we would leave eventually.

So I was down to one other picker, but the two of us managed to fill our bucket and enjoy a peaceful conversation about how you know when a blueberry is the ripest and the meaning of the word “ameriocracy” (At least that’s how I’m guessing you spell it. He picked this word up in his reading and couldn’t be sure of the context, so that left us open to lots of interpretations). This isn’t the part where you feel sorry for me, I’m just trying to make it clear that these blueberries were harvested under great effort and sacrifice.

On Friday morning I decided to make blueberry syrup. It wasn’t really difficult to make, but it took some time to crush the blueberries and cook the blueberries and then strain the juices. We taste tested the first batch on pancakes and unanimously decided the syrup was awesome. So I set to cooking up some more to can. I pulled out seven pint jars from the basement and found seven lids and put them all in the canner and got it boiling to sterilize the jars and lids. No problem there. The problems began as I waited and waited and waited for the huge vat of blueberry sauce to reach a boil. The directions were to bring to a boil and boil for five minutes. The real problems began when I had to pee. I kept putting it off thinking the syrup would boil and then I’d simmer it and get it in the jars and then I could go. But like I said, it was taking a long time to reach a boil, so finally I couldn’t wait any longer and I dashed off to use our downstairs powder room. But there wasn’t any toilet paper and as many of you probably know, only mothers are capable of finding the extra toilet paper and replacing the roll. So now I had to hurry off to the closet upstairs to get more toilet paper and then I really had to pee. By the time I made it back to the kitchen there was a blueberry catastrophe. The syrup had boiled and since it was a sugar based concoction it boiled up and over the top of the pan, all over my stove, down the cabinets, in to the jennair vents and all along the counter top. It was lovely. I said some not so nice things and spent the next 20 minutes cleaning up the stove and kitchen. Then I put the pot back on to boil and I watched it very carefully. The next time it boiled I was ready. I supervised it and kept the heat just high enough to keep it from boiling over. My husband brews beer on occasion and he loves to quote his beer making guide that says “a watched pot never boils, but when this pot boils you better be watching.” Those words haunted me all day.

Not to be discouraged, I was still able to fill six jars and save a small amount for breakfast on Saturday. Here’s what I thought I did next – I put on all the little round lids and screwed them down with the rings. I placed each jar in the canner and I processed them for 10 minutes according to the recipe directions. I say thought but I obviously wasn’t really thinking about it because I don’t remember exactly what I did since while I was in the kitchen anyway, I set up my yogurt maker, emptied the dishwasher, mixed up a batch of dough for hamburger rolls and negotiated a truce between warring parties over the computer. I’m sure there were a few phone calls in there also. When the timer went off I lifted the lid on my canner expecting to see six cans of blueberry syrup but there were only five. I vaguely remember registering that I had an extra lid ring leftover after I started processing my jars, but figured I’d miscounted when I set them out originally. Turns out there were six jars in my canner, it’s just with the dark blue water I couldn’t find the sixth jar that some idiot had put in to the canner without screwing on the ring that secures the lid until the vacuum forms. More blueberry mess to clean up, but in the end I did have five jars of delicious blueberry syrup. Have to focus on that and not all the work it took to pick and process all those blueberries just to lose over 25 % of my product because I didn’t pee before I started and I didn’t pay close enough attention to what I was doing.

I hope my tale doesn’t discourage you. My next post will explain the basics of canning. It’s not hard, I promise, and it’s incredibly rewarding. Plus, it always impresses the neighbors and you’ll feel like you’re in touch with your ancestral roots. All good stuff. Just in case you want to can some blueberry syrup of your own, here’s the recipe:

Blueberry Syrup
(from the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving)

Makes three pint jars

8 cups blueberries, crushed (I use a potato masher)
6 cups water, divided
1 Tablespoon grated lemon zest (it does make a difference if you use a fresh lemon)
3 cups granulated sugar
2 Tablespoons lemon juice (again, fresh lemon if possible)

1. In a large stainless steel saucepan, combine blueberries, 2 cups of water and lemon zest. Bring to a gentle boil over medium heat and boil gently for 5 minutes.
2. Transfer to a dampened jelly bag (I don’t know what this is) or a strainer lined with several layers of cheesecloth set over a deep bowl. Let drip, undisturbed, for at least 2 hours. (I used my regular spaghetti strainer without the cheesecloth and it worked fine, I did have to mash the last bit out. I don’t mind if my syrup has specks of skin in it and none of my kids even noticed)
3. Prepare canner, jars, and lids.
4. In a clean large stainless steel saucepan, combine sugar and remaining 4 cups water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring to dissolve sugar, and cook until temperature reaches 230 degrees (mine never made it that high and still turned out fine). Add blueberry juice. HERE’S WHERE YOU NEED TO PAY ATTENTION. Increase heat to high, bring to a boil and boil for five minutes. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice.
5. Ladle hot syrup into hot jars, leaving ¼ inch headspace. Wipe rim. Center lid on jar. Screw down band until resistance is met, then increase to fingertip-tight.
6. Place jars in canner, ensuring they are completely covered with water. Bring to a boil and process 10 minutes. Remove canner lid. Wait 5 minutes, then remove jars, cool and store.