Adventures in Canning

Welcome to Pocketful of Prose, a community for sharing stories where I muse about my misadventures in and out of the garden. Pocketful of Prose is free for everyone, so go ahead and share with all of your friends. It’s an even better gift than a jar of homemade jam.

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Without further ado, today’s pocket.

In that kitchen, I knew I had to do something. The blackberries I picked the day before, an entire colander’s worth, were staining the counter red. Just that morning I had reached for a gorgeous peach, a farmer’s market treasure I had purchased a few days prior, only to discover it had turned rotten, black mold taking over its soft peach fur on the underside.

How could something spoil so quickly, black juice seeping out the sides of the fruit and into the yellow bowl it sat in, leaving a dark smudge on the lemon beside it. The black sludge river also covered its other companions, one lime and one orange.

I immediately threw the peach out and rinsed off the remaining fruit, placing the citrus in the fridge. I knew that if I didn’t tend to the blackberries soon, they might succumb to a similar fate. One rotten blackberry could spoil the bunch.

In my garden, blackberries are the one thing I have more of than I know what to do with. It is a sweet problem to have. I regularly pop them in my mouth as I tend to the garden. Nothing tastes better than fruit picked directly off the vine. However, I can’t eat dozens of blackberries daily, so I pick them, place them in small cartons and give them away as gifts. I turn them into delicious lemon curd tartlets, oaty crumbles, soothing syrups and hearty muffins. I make preparations for pie, and I freeze them for future use. Today, I set about making jam.

One of the nice things about making something with blackberries or any fruit for that matter is that you can use fruit that is slightly past its prime, not way past its prime like the peach, but just slightly. Sad, shriveled blackberries make delicious jam. Once they are rinsed, mixed with sugar and heated, no one will be the wiser.

I love to garden for many reasons, but in August the reason that most comes to mind is that I love enjoying the fruits of my labor. I like making lunch with basil and tomato grown just a few feet away. I like drying my own oregano for fajitas. I like that for most of the year if I need greens for an omelet, a quick sandwich or a salad, I can walk outside and find them. While I love harvesting, though, I have avoided canning.

Canning has always felt complicated. It requires precision, attention to detail and significant regard for cleanliness, none of which are skills I possess. Moreover, I have a small urban garden, so unlike folks who have larger farms and yields, canning hasn’t felt worth the hassle.

However, when I look up a simple recipe for blackberry jam, I find a cozy blogger who assures me that canning berries is relatively easily. According to her instructions, all I need to do is wash the jars in soap and hot water and then set them on a clean dish towel, place the lids in a boiling bath on the stove and then make the jam, which can be done in three easy steps, which take three minutes each.

1. Mash the berries. Cook three minutes.

2. Add the sugar, in a one-to-one ratio to mashed blackberries. Cook three more minutes.

3. Remove from heat and whisk three minutes.

Then, pour the jam into the jars, careful not to touch the lids when sealing them. Easy.

However, once I get started, my ever-helpful brain starts to wonder if it really is so easy.

Dan comes home, and I say, “I’m making jam. Hopefully, I won’t give anyone botulism,” and then I worry that this is a terrible thing to joke about, so I start googling botulism, something I would not recommend.

Botulism is scary because unlike the moldy peach on the counter, the deadly bacteria can’t be seen or smelled.

Aren’t the things we fear that we can’t see the scariest? As a child, I was terrified of quicksand. I really thought I would be walking along one day on solid ground, and then all of a sudden, I’d go under.

Now that smoke permeates the air during wildfire season, that same fear abounds. What are the unseen threats? What are we inhaling that we can’t see? What will the long-term effects be?

Perhaps it’s a stretch to worry about botulism, but then I get to thinking about how just because something is a stretch doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Remember, many years ago, when everyone started saying “the dingo ate my baby”? It was on Seinfeld, and in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, it was the name of Oz’s indie rock band.

We laughed when someone said it. It seemed ludicrous, but horrifically, a dingo did eat someone’s baby. The poor Australian mom was wrongly imprisoned for three years because no one believed her.

And people really do get botulism and die, and here I was making a joke about it and relying on a random cozy internet blogger to keep me safe.

So, I did what any sane person would do in this situation. I “researched” what other random people on the internet had to say.

I should boil the lids. Excellent, check.

I shouldn’t boil the lids. Shit. Apparently, it interferes with the sealants in newer jars. Boiling the lids was outdated, like quicksand and dingoes eating babies.

I should put the jars in the oven half full of water, so when the jam goes in the jars, there is no temperature shock. This resulted in a substantial blister on my thumb.

I should close the lids super tight, so they can seal properly.

I shouldn’t close the lids super tight, so they can seal properly.

The jars will make a beautiful pinging sound when they are sealed. We were leaving town the next day. If a jar pings when no one is around, is it actually sealed?

I should aerate the jam with a silicone spatula before sealing. Unfortunately, I read this after all the jars are “sealed.” Turning back at this point would require emptying each jar, heating the whole batch up again and then redistributing the jam in the jars, with new seals.

Hell no, I remember why I never can to begin with.

I place my jars in the fridge. I take a deep breath. There are seven and a half tiny jars in total. I will give several away to friends who believe in me more than I believe in myself. That leaves me with a few that I will most likely freeze or keep in the fridge to be safe.

Even though further research informs me that while a dingo did indeed take someone’s baby, there have been no reported cases of anyone getting botulism from blackberry jam. The high acidity combined with the sugar content make it an inhospitable environment for the bacteria to grow.

I tell Seabass that I made blackberry jam, and that based on my research, I am pretty sure that it is safe. He says I might not want to lead with that when sharing the jars with my friends.

This Week in the Garden

The blackberry jam I made is the most delicious blackberry jam I have ever eaten. Now, that I know that botulism is completely out of the cards when it comes to fruit jams, I hope to make more.

My tomatoes are ripe and delicious. I harvested my first cucumber which tasted even better than the ones I get from the farmer’s market.

I harvested the most adorable tiny habaneros I’ve ever seen. I am realizing that my sunflowers are keeping some things small and reducing the yield of other things. On one hand, I don’t garden for productivity. I’m okay with not having the most amazing yields when it comes to produce. Still, I would like to give some things a little more space, and I’m seeing what happens when things have enough room to grow. Now that the garlic has been harvested, the zucchini plant has room and is taking off. This is all to say, that I would like to be a little more intentional with next year’s garden plans.

I planted some snow and snap peas for fall and in the next few days, I might plant some spinach and cilantro, and perhaps a few more things if I have seeds. When the weather cools, I also hope to plant some more perennials in places where I’d like to see more color next summer.

I am making cards with some of my pressed flowers, and this is bringing me joy.

I would love to continue this conversation in the comments. What is growing in your garden? What is not growing that you wish was? Do you have any tips on canning or not canning? What book is by your bedside these days? I finished Whistler this week, and I’m giving it five stars.

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