Harry ventured back to his English roots last week and, using his mother's English recipes, did some canning. He made lemon curd, marmalade, blackberry, strawberry and rhubarb jam, chutney, pickled beets and pickles. Tis the season. We have, a few blocks from us in St. Louis Park, a small farmers' market that opened at the beginning of July. The Hmong growers produce beautiful vegetables and we have been shopping there every Wednesday. The fruit for the jams Harry bought at Whole Foods, or Whole Paycheck, as a friend of mine calls the upscale grocery store. Expensive jam, yes, but better than store bought. I made a mad dash to our neighborhood Target late Sunday afternoon and bought the last box of the canning jars on the shelf. Obviously we are not the only people into this canning thing.
Our daughter-in-law, Joanna, has a master's degree in canning. She and Ivan do a lot of picking their own fruit for canning as well. One year, while they lived in Indiana, we had a family outing to pick blueberries. Eva, our granddaughter, was just a baby and we took turns holding her. I was so inspired by the experience I got home and sent Eva a copy of probably my favorite children's picture book, Blueberries for Sal. This year Joanna is doing a variety of amazing things with peaches from a nearby orchard in their new hometown of St. Louis. My sister, Julie, and my niece, Andi, recently picked strawberries and mulberries and made jam. Last week Julie went to the big farmers market in Minneapolis and bought a huge crate of cucumbers for pickling. The Hmong woman wanted rid of the cukes so sold them to her for $5.
All this canning has brought back fond memories from my childhood when my grandmother would take her canned peaches and pears off her pantry shelf for my sister and me to enjoy. It was so comforting: it felt like she was opening a jar of love for us. So, lids off to all who take the time to fill glass jars with wonderful things for their loved ones to enjoy. The world can use more love.
Do you take online orders?
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