By Paige Ray of Approaching Joy

 

 

As soon as school started after the summer break, my younger brother and I would figure out which bus line we were supposed to be in and load up for the 30 minute ride to our grandparents’ house in the country.  We were jostled down no less than five bumpy country roads only to be unceremoniously dumped off on the side of the dusty lane that led to their house a quarter of a mile away.  But at the end of the driveway lay glorious food of all sorts.

Peanut butter sandwiches, cheese and crackers, or simple slices of summer sausage were the components of a normal snack, while ice cream with chocolate sauce was reserved for special days.  But there was always food cooking.  Sauces would be boiling in pots.  Doughs would be rising underneath kitchen towels worn thin. And specifically at the end of summer into the beginning of fall, fresh produce would be on the counter ready to be canned.

It was my memory of canning that got me super excited… and a little scared… when the Mister told me he wanted to use the tomatoes that we got at the farmers’ market to make homemade pasta sauce and then can them so we could have some to eat later on in the fall and winter.

I was comfortable with the pasta sauce: this is something we do fairly often.  The thought of making a batch big enough to feed thirty people?  Slightly intimidating but doable.  It was the actual canning part that freaked me out:

“Isn’t that something that only kitchen pros do?”
“We don’t have any special equipment!!”
“What happens if we do it wrong and die of botulism?!?!?!?!” 
(As you can tell by my use of exclamation marks, I got more concerned the more I thought about it.)

He convinced me that this was doable so we went about making something similar to this Tomato Sauce recipe.  (Remember the other day when I mentioned that the Mister regards a recipe as a suggestion?)

This was the first time I had ever poached tomatoes (is that the right term?) so the “boil quickly, throw into ice water, watch the “skin” come off the tomato” process was kind of amazing.

Then we squeezed the tomatoes into the fancy French sieve (a chinoise, if you’re taking arduous notes) so that all the juice went through (and could be used with the fruit of the tomato) but the seeds stayed behind.

I think it’s kind of beautiful.

After that we started the actual tomato sauce process… at which point I went to another part of the house to do blog work and stayed busy until the Mister let me know that he was ready to can.

Here’s the thing about the canning process: It’s fairly straight-forward procedure.
You stick whatever you want in a can, place the sealer lid (it’s got something resembling a wax ring) on top, and then loosely screw on the outer lid.  You then stick the cans into a boiling pot of water until the can “cooks” (i.e. seals), and then you take them out.

What isn’t so straight forward is the fact that while “cooking” the cans sound like a space ship before lift-off. (Scariest kitchen noise ever.)  Also scary- botulism exists.  The phrase “killer cans” still frightens me out.  Check out these two links if this is something you’re interested in:

Canning 101: Home Canned Tomatoes

How to Can Tomatoes At Home Safely

After carefully taking the jars out of the pot and placing them onto the counter, we sat and waited.  I was so proud of my Mister when we head the “pop” of the jars sealing and telling us that these were good to go.

Have any of you guys ever tried canning anything?
(I’m going to assume no one reading has ever gotten botulism and survived, but if you have please share!)
What’s the most adventurous you’ve been in the kitchen lately?

Paige Ray blogs at Approaching Joy where she focuses on living local,  sharing inspiration and telling her story.  Hailing from the south Arkansas town of Hope, she currently resides with the Mister in Northwest Arkansas where she works as Director of Membership and Marketing a The Jones Center in Springdale.  Not only does she can tomatoes and shop the Farmers Market, she takes some pretty awesome photographs as well.