Because I can, can, can

Nothing says summer to me quite like the weekly, bi-weekly, or even twice-weekly process of transforming fresh-picked produce into a Technicolor glass menagerie.   Each winter I make a list of new recipes to try or gaps in the canning pantry I’m desperate to fill.  By spring I’m chomping at the bit to line up my Mason jars, wash up my canner, and break out new seals.  When spring’s mad rush of outdoor duties gives way to higher temperatures and a burgeoning garden, it’s the kitchen that once again takes center stage.  Lugging the garden’s bounty inside is merely the intro.  Then I rumple my hair like every good conductor and begin orchestrating the whoosh, plop, clang, sizzle, and hiss of utensils, pots, pans and jars.  I maintain this rhythm throughout May, June, July, and August in preparation for the coming year.  While it can be a formidable task and I don’t always look forward to it on the morning of a canning day, I know nothing will taste better on a cold February afternoon than a half-day’s work from last August.

Now that August is nearly half over, I’m finally winding down on my canning for the season.  In addition to my usual staples like green beans and salsa, six months ago I set out to add fruit jellies to my roster, explore the versatility of cucumbers, and expand my tomato-based offerings.   Like any project reliant on the garden the outcome nearly always differs from what I originally envisioned.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m thrilled with what’s put away for winter, but there were quite a few alterations in the plan along the way.  Seasons like this one remind me that anything to do with growing your own food offers two distinct therapeutic courses.  Garden Therapy 101 is what everyone talks about most: gardening as an avenue of stress relief allowing me to commune with nature and enjoy the color, texture, and taste of the fruit of my own physical labor. This is the kind of therapy I sign up for season after season.  It goes hand in hand with a myriad of notions suggesting neatly emerging rows of luscious greens and plump fruit; rich, loamy earth; fragrant breezes; my face beaded with sweat and hands brown with work; and an idyllic transfer from garden to kitchen and beyond.  I’ve had a fair amount of this therapy since I seeded my first transplants in March; but that is not the predominant type of therapy I’ve been experiencing since then.  In fact, whether I wanted to or not I was also enrolled in Garden Therapy 201 which follows an altogether different train of thought.  This course is an advanced relaxation exercise practiced in the face of feeling rather out of control, increasingly behind, and pretty darn frustrated with some (though usually all) of the following: weather, bugs, weeds, and time.  Generally I’m the kind of woman that prefers to create and stick to a well-thought-out plan, so this second variety of “therapy” is a bit trickier for me to welcome. However, I’ve made it to August and though I’m a bit loath to say it I’ve determined that both courses are enlightening and equally beneficial.  Barring an absolute garden catastrophe my canning pantry, freezer, fermentation crocks, and belly are well-satisfied when the garden is put to bed in the fall.  If at the end of each season I’ve learned new things, stored food for winter, and have improvements to make next season, that’s the best it can be.  I’m learning to adapt to what comes, adjust the plans, and accept the things I cannot change...albeit a bit begrudgingly. 

For instance, nothing puts a human in its humble place quite like the weather, which in Kentucky has been very odd this year.  After a rather mild winter we had a February that felt like March, a March that felt like May, and an April that couldn’t make up its mind.  As for the April showers bringing May flowers -- ha! Precipitation for the month was likely on track for levels in Death Valley.  All this had me a bit confused as to how to proceed:  Did I start my seedlings too late considering the early spring? Should I have set the peppers in the ground three weeks earlier than usual?  What do you mean there’s already Bermuda grass making friends with my radishes?  How did all those weeds sprout before I got the mulch down?  What happened to all the blueberries and blackberries that were supposed to be made into jam?  Early this season I was in a constant state of Now What Do I Do?!?!  Thankfully May pulled the reigns back toward “normal” with a few good inches of rain coupled with much more seasonal temperatures in the 70s and 80s. But they say all good things must come to an end.  The rain spigot turned off completely in June and parts of our state, including our area, were headed into severe drought conditions.  As we teetered with despair over our beloved garden, I tried to stalwartly carry on with whatever I could get my hands on to throw in the canner.  Thank you, Garden Therapy 201. 

Of all the succulent fruit I had expected to turn into jams, strawberries were the only one that yielded enough to fool with; but oh how delicious and worth it! Now that I've dabbled in the basics of jam, I’m really looking forward to the fruit that next season might bring.  Thankfully, cucumbers came in in droves and I finished their peak with pints of sweet relish, chow-chow, sweet pickles, and dill pickles (many of which were new recipes for me). By the time the cucumbers were on the wane, I was ready to move on to something else.  Tomatoes were the next giant wave.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get enough of a yield to delve into ketchup and other condiments like I’d hoped, but I was able to put up quarts of crushed tomato sauce starter and many pints of my family’s favorite – salsa.  Today I canned my last batch of it. Though I’m a ways away from shelving my canning gear for a winter hiatus, I’m nearing the finale and glad to do so.  Pretty soon the THHOOOP of an opening jar will be a pleasant reminiscence of the season’s symphony.  

The Nitty Gritty: Canning

- Canning is a simple, yet scientific process that requires its users to be very comfortable with the basic techniques in order to ensure food safety.  I recommend having Ball’s Complete Book of Home Preserving (or another certified book like it) on hand. The County Extension Service is also very helpful in this area.  Be thorough when learning the proper canning techniques.  Consider doing simple item recipes (i.e. jam, green beans) before advancing to multi-step recipes (i.e. salsas and tomato sauces).

- Consider canning fruit in not-from-concentrate, no additives fruit juice (i.e. white grape, pineapple, apple, or pear) instead of the traditional sugar-syrup.  I’ve canned peaches, apples, and pears in plain-old apple juice and they tasted delicious without a hint of apple off-flavor. 

- I’ve found it helpful to start the process by laying out everything I need for the recipe and the canning.  This way I can get the next stage going while finishing/cleaning the previous. I’m also less likely to feel strapped for time or forget something along the way.  Embrace the beautiful mess that your kitchen will become; don’t worry, this too shall pass. 

- There’s an ongoing dialogue about canning vs. fermentation because of their antithetical methods to storing food.  I’m of the school of thought that says why pick one when I prefer both. Canning and fermentation each have their distinctive merits, so I employ either in my food preservation. 

Summer’s Best Salsa -- Try it! I'm sure you can, can, can.  

Makes about 16 pints 

½ bushel (roughly 25 lbs.) of tomatoes, peeled, cored & chopped

5+ green peppers, cored, seeded, & chopped

3 lbs. onions, chopped

3 jalapeno peppers, cored, seeded & chopped  (I use dish gloves to do this part because nothing burns like hot pepper juice accidentally swiped into your eye…yes, I’ve done this)

6-8  6-oz. tomato paste jars (I prefer jars to cans because of the compounds in commercially canned goods that leach into food)

1 large head of garlic, minced

¼ c. honey

5 T salt

2/3 c. apple cider vinegar

1-2 tsp. garlic powder (or more to taste)

1 tsp. paprika

½ c. parsley flakes

1: To peel tomatoes:  Put small batches of tomatoes in a pot of boiling water for 30-60 seconds until skins split and begin to curl.  Immediately remove to a large bowl of ice water.  Skins should easily slip off and make a very happy meal for pigs or the compost pile.  Repeat until all tomatoes are peeled. 

2: Chop all the vegetables in a food processor, food mill, or (gasp) by hand. 

3: In a large stock pot bring tomatoes, garlic, peppers, onions, and tomato paste to a boil for 5 minutes. Cover, lower heat, simmer for 1 hour.  Stir frequently to prevent scorching and do the following while you wait.

4: Fill canner loosely with clean pint jars standing upright. (Canners vary with how many pints they fit, but it is usually 8-10) Add water until just above rims of jars.  Cover and bring to a boil.  In a small pot, heat water on medium-low.  Place NEW seals into small pot (do not allow water to boil as it can ruin the effectiveness of the rubber seal). 

5: After 1 hour, stir honey, salt, vinegar, garlic powder, paprika, and parsley flakes into salsa mixture.  Take a spoonful, allow to cool, and taste.  If you don’t like it now, you won’t like it chilled, so alter with garlic powder or salt as needed.  Cook uncovered for 45 minutes. 

6: With a slotted spoon or ladle, ladle hot salsa into a hot jar (removed from canner one at a time).  Swipe a rubber spatula along the insides of the jar to release air bubbles.  Wipe rim of jar with a damp cloth.  Center a warmed seal on top of jar and screw a band onto the jar until finger-tip tight.  Replace full jar into canner. Repeat until all jars are filled and sealed.  Water level should be about one inch above jars. 

7: Cover canner and bring back to a boil. Then, time for 20 minutes.  Remove canner lid and turn off heat. Let rest 5 minutes.  Remove jars carefully without tipping and set on a cooling rack.  Repeat steps 4, 6, and 7 until all salsa is jarred.  Remember to boil the next set of clean, empty jars as in step 4 for at least 5 minutes before proceeding with steps 6 and 7.  

8: Allow jars to cool, unmoved for 24 hours. Label and store in a cool, dark, dry location.