domestic dilettante, humorless feminist shrew

I know I mentioned that a few weeks ago, we went apple picking. At the same farm, they had pick-your-own raspberries. Initially, we were picking three pints. Just three–only three. Who needs more than three pints of raspberries?

Since we planned to pick three pints, I assume that you guys have already realized that we went home with five.

Maura, for all her excitement at the idea of going, seemed to like the reality of it somewhat less. She did, however, make sure that we got our money’s worth of berries–I’m pretty sure she ate an entire quart of them just wandering around the fields!

Maura was dressed for the occasion. This is what she looks like all the time now: skirt, shirt that rarely matches, leggings that rarely match either the skirt or the shirt. Sometimes I think I liked it better before she got all–well, big enough to have an opinion. I keep thinking that I’d like another baby, because you know what? Babies are adorable and loving all of the time, and they do not talk, have opinions, or stick their filthy dirty feet in your face.

Then I remember that babies turn into children, and I go back to convincing myself that I really, really don’t want any more.

Obviously, I have many layers. Confusing, conflicted layers.

The raspberries were everywhere. I love autumn-bearing fruit, especially berries. Not only are they pretty, but there’s also the chance that you’ll be able to pick them while the temperature is less than sweltering. Not that we really succeeded with these, but whatever.

After Maura got bored of picking berries, which took all of about seven minutes, she commandeered my camera and started taking pictures of random things. She got a surprisingly good shot of me–I’m not photogenic by any stretch of the imagination, so I was impressed that this didn’t make me curl up in a ball.

Of course, she spent the rest of her time taking pictures of things like her hands, the grass, a bird, a cloud, a bird in the shape of a cloud…She was very happy about it, anyhow.

Once we got home, everyone rested for a while, and then I made jam. No pictures of the jam, as for some reason I only have pictures of it boiling on the stove, and it’s not really an attractive picture.

So, first boring things first. Your jars need to be sterilized. You can do this in one of two ways: boiling them for a while (ten minutes, probably, but I always get distracted and leave them in there for half an hour) or by putting them in a cold oven, turning the oven to 300, and then letting the jars hang out for fifteen minutes or so after the oven’s come to temperature. The lids and rings of the jars need to be sterilized, too. Drop them in a small pot of boiling water, let them boil ten minutes, and then leave them in the water until you need them.

After you’ve made the jam, it’ll need to be processed. This sounds scary but is actually really easy, plus other people find it very impressive. All you will need for this is an enormous pot with something to keep the jars off the floor of the pot. I use a pasta pot, the kind with the holey insert. Fill this pot most of the way with water and bring it to a boil as you make your jam.

Wash your raspberries. You want to minimise the presence of bug guts in your jam.

Dump the raspberries into a large pot. Add the zest and juice of half a lemon, put them on the stove, and let them cook on medium heat for a while. Stir or mash them as necessary–eventually, you’ll want them pretty well mashed up.

Once the raspberries resemble less berries and more delicious red goo, dump in the sugar, one cup for every pints of berries. I had five quarts, to five cups of sugar went in.

Simmer, stirring occasionally, until this turns into jam. It shouldn’t take too long, and you’ll know when it happens, because it will suddenly look like jam. (If you need to check, put a bit of the almost-jam onto a cold plate and stick it in the freezer for a minute. When you take it out, it should be jammy, and you’re good to go.) When it looks right, ladle your hot jam into the sterilized jars. A wide-mouth funnel helps here, though I’ve made plenty of jam without one. I fill the jars to the bottom of the screw-on tracks–you know how there’s the bump in the glass where the lid screws on? When I hit that, the jars are full. Pull a lid out of the sterilizing water, dry it with a clean towel, and put it on the jar. Then screw the ring over it. Don’t go too tight with the rings–I always freak out and think that I’m going to end with jam jars full of water if I don’t screw them on tightly, but you really shouldn’t, because I’m told that it increases the (slim but extant) chance that your jars will explode as they’re processed. Anyhow, screw the ring on to where it comfortably stops, and don’t try to tighten it.

Do that for all your jars.

Now for the processing. Remember the big pot of boiling water from earlier? You’re going to very carefully put the jars in. My pot can only handle four jars at a time, because you can’t stack them at all, and you need the water to be over their tops. (This may mean that you have to add more water if you’re canning a whole bunch of jars.) Once the water comes back to a boil, set the timer for ten minutes. (A little longer is fine–I often end up going more like fifteen, just because I’m doing other things.) When the timer dings, pull the jars out of the water bath using either tongs or a silicone oven mitt.

Let the jars cool on the counter. You’ll hear them sealing as the night goes on–Ping! Ping! Sometimes they’re really loud, other times they’re barely noticeable. Don’t worry too much about it.

When morning rolls around, check your jars to make sure that they’ve sealed. The little button in the middle of the lid should have popped down–if it goes down when you press on it, the jar didn’t seal properly. This isn’t a huge deal, and the jam’s perfectly fine to eat, but it won’t be shelf-stable. Stick it in the fridge and eat within a few weeks, or in the freezer and eat within a few weeks of defrosting it.

Obviously, raspberry jam is delicious, and I have quite a few pints put away now. Yay!