Catching Blueberries

The warm summer breeze rustles the mass of blueberry bushes. The lanky branches sway and the berries dance playfully, like toddlers impishly attempting to escape the embrace of a parent. It is a game. Who can be more nimble, who can stay just out of reach? In the end, we know it is inevitable we will collide and collapse in an unruly pile of hugs and giggles. 

It is what I like to call Blueberry Jam Day, that one day in July when the sun is just right, and the blueberries are that perfect shade of ebony blue. I head out early to Patty’s Berries and Bunches on the North Fork of Long Island with basket in tow. My goal is to collect enough berries for jam and baking to last me well into the winter.

Patty’s blueberries are planted in long corridors that seem to stretch on for an eternity. I’m told the best options for picking will be well into the field so I head deep into the heart of blueberry world, with only the palpable whisper of the breeze, the cotton candy clouds, the swishing of the branches, and the chirping of a red wing blackbird to keep me company.

It is a game of skill, attempting to grab these blueberries that hope to elude capture. 

But, I am the blueberry catcher, and within time, I am victorious, with a mountain of blue orbs in hand. Immediately, I return to the kitchen to begin jamming.  

It is such a satisfying thing, capturing that thrilling moment in the field within a quilted glass jar. The sugar, lemon juice and pectin are added and the berries simmer and pop and transform into thick purple syrup. 

Now you can actually taste the sun, the breeze, the sound of the birds and the excitement of the chase.

Slathered on a warm muffin or piping hot slice of toast, my North Fork Blueberry Jam can evoke smiles, giggles and delicious memories of catching blueberries for some time to come.

©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Strawberry Jamboree

True strawberries – and by that, I mean strawberries that are locally grown and begin to ripen to perfection in early June – are just a fleeting moment in the landscape of summer. Lasting only two to three weeks, they are deeply red to the core, and drenched with sweet, sunny flavor.

More and more I realize that these ephemeral moments are something to protect and preserve.  Perhaps that’s why I have gravitated towards home canning.  A spoonful of homemade jam from a jar evokes a whole raft of memories.  It goes far beyond capturing the sweet flavor of the fruit. 

It recalls the sun on your back and the sweat on your brow as you walk through the fields at Restoration Farm. It’s the buzzing of honeybees and the glimpse of a red-winged blackbird.  It’s the conversations with friends in the field, and the reminder that despite the fact that a growing season is always advancing towards an autumnal finale, time just seems to move a little more slowly at the farm.     

It’s been a glorious start to summer, and a strawberry jam project was inevitable.  The strawberries come from Restoration Farm’s Glenn Aldridge, who this year cultivated a separate field of strawberries at the Old Hewlett Apple Orchard in Old Bethpage Village Restoration, which he’s been restoring and cultivating for several years now.  

It is hardly hyperbole to say that you can taste Glenn’s caring nature in these beautiful berries.  He gives me far more berries than the recipe requires, so my kitchen becomes the site of a strawberry jamboree.  

To prepare the jam, I use my Ball Automatic Jam & Jelly Maker, which is calibrated to cook at just the right temperature.  The reduced sugar recipe is formulated specifically for use with this device, and contains more fruit and more intense strawberry flavor.  

As the jam simmers, my memory is at work.  The aroma of warm strawberries instantly transport me to summers past, enjoying hot popovers slathered with jam on the banks of Jordan Pond at Acadia National Park.  

The final yield is eight jars of memories in two varieties – Strawberry Vanilla Jam infused with vanilla bean, and Strawberry Lemon Jam spiked with lemon zest. 

I leave you with this poem – given to me by my mom – written by Bea Lotz, which nicely captures the essence of strawberry jam in a quilted crystal glass jar:  

Homemade Jam

Sugared Summer in a jar,

To spread on Winter nights,

Rich layerings of sunshine

Of golden day delights.

Preserved now…lazy afternoons

With droning bumblebees,

Heavy berries bending low

And weighted, swollen trees.

Preserved for when the snow drifts,

When wind howls at the door –

Within each sticky spoonful,

Bright Summer lives once more.

-- Bea Lotz

©2014 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

A Neighborly Jam Session with NY State Apples and Vermont Maple Syrup

This is my absolute last jam session of 2013.  I mean it. I don’t have enough room on my pantry shelves for all the jam I’ve produced, and I haven’t even shared every recipe with you. You have no idea the extent of this obsession. Scary. 

I keep telling myself, “They’ll make great gifts for the holidays.” 

I must admit I’ve been enticed by the signs in the grocery stores for “New York State Apples.” Even the big supermarket chains have taken on the language of local food. So I pick up a “tote” of New York State Gala apples.  

The New York State “Apple Country” website describes the Gala as a juicy variety developed in New Zealand, that is mild and sweet in flavor with crisp, creamy yellow flesh. New Zealand, huh?  So the “local” connection may be a little spurious after all, but it’s probably a good bet they were grown in New York soil.

Many of my jam projects are predicated on what’s in the pantry – and I’ve been holding a bottle of Vermont Maple Syrup from Top Acres Farm in South Woodstock that I purchased last autumn during a visit to the Billings Farm Museum.  

The Ball Blue Book Guide to Preserving completes the jam session with a recipe for Apple-Maple Jam.   It sounds like a nice way to preserve the flavors of autumn well into the cruel, cold winter.   And it’s a perfect mash up, or should we say, “jam up” of two neighboring states – the Empire State and the Green Mountain State. 

The biggest part of the job is chopping the apples, as the recipe requires 3 quarts of chopped fruit.

This is the second time I’ve tried a recipe that doesn’t call for adding pectin. You cook down the fruit until it releases its own pectin naturally.  

The mixture looks like a big apple stew.  It is rich with cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and allspice. 

I’m not sure I actually cook it long enough get to the jelling point.  Despite the use of a candy thermometer, I can’t quite seem to get the jam to the “soft ball” temperature.  I stand over the pot for what seems like an eternity, and start to feel a bit like a kitchen drudge. 

After boiling the jam within an inch of its life, I give up and decide to go ahead and process the jam. 

The kitchen smells like a Vermont Maple Syrup House on Thanksgiving Day, and the chunks of apples hang suspended like little jewels in the maple jam. 

So what if it’s a little syrupy in the end?  I can always use it on top of pancakes or waffles. Better yet – how about atop a scoop of vanilla ice cream? That would be awesome. The key thing about jamming, is you just have to be flexible. 

Here’s the recipe from the “Ball Blue Book Guide to Preserving,” in case you want to try your luck at reaching the “gelling point.”  Something about that phrase sounds vaguely scandalous.  As always, be sure to follow proper canning and food safety procedures.

Apple-Maple Jam  (Yield: about 8 half pints) 

3 quarts chopped, peeled, cored apples

6 cups sugar

1 teaspoon cinnamon

½ teaspoon allspice

½ teaspoon nutmeg

¼ teaspoon cloves

1 cup maple syrup

Combine ingredients in a large pot and slowly bring to boil.  Cook rapidly to gelling point. As jam thickens, stir frequently to prevent sticking. Remove from heat and skim foam if necessary.  Ladle hot jam into hot jars, leaving ¼ inch headspace. Adjust two-piece caps. Process 10 minutes in a boiling water canner. 

©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved

Carrot Cake Jam From the Field to the Jar

I once had a friend who believed that carrot cake was an acceptable choice on any diet, since technically it is a vegetable.  I’m not sure Carrot Cake Jam exactly qualifies as a vegetable, but what goes into the jar was harvested in the field and it sure tastes a lot like the cake after which it is named.  

The final pickup of the 2013 season at Restoration Farm features crisp, sunny carrots that sparkle in the morning light. The splash of bright orange color immediately catches the eye.  

Root vegetables personify the heartiest traits of the farm, drawing their earthy flavor directly from the elements of soil and water that comprises the land.  

Perhaps it is my need to extend the season that prompts me to – once again – organize a weekend canning project. This recipe for Carrot Cake Jam intrigues me.  The jam evokes tradition, and the flavors of Carrot Cake a touch of nouveau cuisine. 

Grated carrots, chopped pears and canned pineapple are simmered with sugar, pectin and warm autumn seasonings – cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg.  I’ll be able to enjoy the sweet carrots of Restoration Farm for some time to come.  

By now, my canning skills are practically instinctive, which was a goal of mine for the season. Once hesitant to tackle home preserving, it now comes quite naturally.  

Here’s the rub with jam.  You actually can’t sample the fruit of your labor until the job is complete – the jam is just too hot.   But, the aroma is rich and inviting, and a pretty clear indicator of success.  

The delectable spread packed into the jars is chunky and sweet, and the house indeed smells like warm Carrot Cake is baking in the oven. 

A slice of homemade bread spread with cream cheese and Carrot Cake Jam on a bracing autumn afternoon will assure that the flavors and textures of Restoration Farm continue to delight the senses. 

©2013 T.W. Barritt All Rights Reserved