In an effort to implement our idealistic local eating plans, some friends and I arranged tutorials with experienced food preservers… i.e., our mothers. Last night, we conned my mom into providing our introductory lesson… Jam Making 101.
Blithely dealing with comments such as:
“Skim? What does that mean? Is this aesthetic or actually useful?”
“Will it seal? It hasn’t sealed yet? Are you sure it’s going to… oh! never mind.”
“Is this my wine or yours?”
Mom managed to shepherd us through three batches of strawberry rhubarb jam. (Rhubarb, local. Strawberries, not so local. But Mom was only in Vancouver for a limited amount of time. We couldn’t wait for berries to ripen.)
We were very proud of our results.
Next up… blueberry jam and canned peaches. I think Mom’s setting up a 1-800 line for our emergency use.