Preserve Yourself in a Jam
Grandmother would have been shocked at the meager display—to her—of jars and bottles on my pantry shelves, but today with the groceries’ canned fruits, vegetables and jellies why copy her long hot hours over a steaming preserving kettle? Homemade pickles, though, no grocery can imitate and they lend such an individual and lavish touch to the simplest meal that they are worth a few mornings in the cool autumn. Once started, try to make enough of any one kind of pickle to last two or three years. The preparation takes a little longer but the actual cooking doesn’t and, as the sweet-sour stuff improves with age, this labor-saving scheme keeps a welcome variety always on hand with a minimum of effort. Use undiluted cider vinegar in cooking and economical half-pint jars for storage if your family is small. And put whole spices, when called for, in big aluminum teaballs for easy fishing out.
Just what its name says—the makings of a fine sandwich—BREAD AND BUTTER PICKLE is also good with fish, and easy to cook. Slice thinly 2 quarts of unpeeled green cucumbers and 3 medium-sized peeled onions. Separate the onions into rings and set them and the cucumbers in a bowl with ½ cup of salt and three or four fist-sized pieces of ice. Leave to crisp for 3 hours. Make a syrup of 1 quart of vinegar, 2 cups of brown sugar, 2 teaspoons of mustard seed, 1 teaspoon of celery seed and ½ teaspoon each of turmeric and cayenne pepper. Add 2 tablespoons of packaged pickling spices in a cloth bag or tea ball. Simmer for 15 minutes, add the drained cucumbers and onions, bring slowly to a full boil. Take from the fire and cool. Remove the spices and pack the pickles in sterilized jars. This will make about 4 pints.
A pinchpenny landlady refused to paint our shabby farm but I thank her just the same for two recipes for tomato pickle which have covered many a lack of flavor in cold meat or salad.
RED TOMATO PICKLE. Peel 18 large ripe tomatoes. Chop them coarsely and simmer 15 minutes. Skim off the juice for the family’s breakfast. Add to the tomatoes 6 peeled onions, 2 small bunches of celery, 6 seeded green peppers, all coarsely chopped or ground, and a teaspoon each of ground cloves and allspice, ¼ teaspoon of cinnamon, 10 teaspoons of brown or white sugar, and 2½ tablespoons of salt. Let simmer until just thick, then add 1 pint of cider vinegar. Boil quickly until thick, stirring constantly, and seal in sterilized jars. This will make 10 half-pints.
Her GREEN TOMATO PICKLE, or INDIA RELISH, is equally tasty. Run the following through the coarse cutter of the food chopper: 1 peck of green tomatoes, ½ peck of peeled onions, 12 peeled green cucumbers, and 6 each of seeded green and red peppers. Mix the vegetables with 1 cup of salt and let them drain overnight, in cheesecloth or a fine colander. Next morning add 2 pounds of white or brown sugar, 1 ounce of celery seed, 2 cups of vinegar, and simmer 15 minutes, or until the vegetables are just tender. Seal in sterilized jars. This makes some 12 half-pints.
The following recipe for tomato catsup has been the pride of a Dixie Land family since “befo’ de wah” and until now has never been seen by an outsider. To get it I produced a family tree, the lengthy research for which would surely have merited membership in the Colonial Dames of America. Having proved myself “kin,” I was allowed to copy the directions, and now, while one half of me selfishly agrees with its original owner, the better half urges everyone to make something so delightfully different from the bought, bright red stuff. Empty beer bottles make just the right-sized containers but any small jar or bottle that can be sealed will do. Use new corks that will fit tightly and boil them and the bottles for five minutes before filling. Let the bottles cool after corking and dip the tops two or three times in melted paraffine before storing. Now for TOMATO CATSUP and having gone through so much to acquire its formula it is only a fair warning that it takes time to make. Quarter and remove any flaws from 2 pecks of ripe red tomatoes and put them in a kettle with 3 cups of chopped onion and 20 chopped cloves of garlic. Add 1 tablespoon of cayenne pepper, 3 tablespoons of whole cloves, 1 tablespoon of whole allspice, 1 tablespoon of black pepper, 2 ounces of dry mustard, ½ cup of salt and 4 cups of vinegar. Simmer for 2 hours, stirring occasionally. Remove from the fire and strain through a sieve or food mill. Return to the fire and simmer, stirring constantly, until thick, about 2 hours. An asbestos mat under the kettle is useful here to prevent scorching and the exact time of cooking is difficult to give as tomatoes vary so in their amount of juice. Just bear in mind what tomato catsup should look like, and even if yours is a little thinner or thicker the flavor will still be there. Taste for salt just before it’s finished, add a little more if needed, and bottle while hot. This is a must with baked beans and codfish cakes while the younger members of the family claim that it even supplements a sandwich made with P.O.M. PICKLE (below).
GREEN GRAPE CATSUP came from a century-old home book of health, and is prescribed as a “help to the failing appetite.” It is not only that, but superior to most bought meat sauces. Cover 10 cups of stemmed unripe grapes with water, simmer until soft, and press through a colander. Add 2 pints of brown sugar, 1 pint of vinegar, 2 teaspoons each of powdered allspice and cloves, 1 tablespoon of powdered cinnamon, and 1½ teaspoons each of powdered mace and salt, and ½ teaspoon of cayenne pepper. Simmer, stirring, until thick—with the asbestos pad under the kettle for added safety—and bottle and seal the same way as with the tomato catsup.
SPICED CANTELOUPE or WATERMELON RIND can be made in smaller quantities than given here and any leftover syrup saved to start the next batch. Peel and slice 1 quart of firm rind. Make a brine in the proportion of 2 tablespoons of salt to 1 quart of water. Cover the rind with this and soak it 8 hours or overnight. Drain and cover the rind with fresh water. Simmer until just tender. Make a syrup of 2 cups of cider vinegar, 1½ cups of brown sugar, 1 tablespoon each of stick cinnamon and whole cloves, and ⅛ teaspoon of allspice. Add a small piece of mace and a small piece of ginger root—the last from the drugstore. Boil for 15 minutes, then add half the prepared rind and an optional sliced lemon and simmer until the rind is clear. Put the finished rind into hot sterilized jars. Cook the rest the same way, then bring the syrup to a boil, remove the lemon if used, fill the jars with syrup, and seal.
CHUTNEY. Core, peel and slice thinly 4 cups of sour apples. Add 6 cups of sliced firm green tomatoes, 2 cups of chopped onions, 1 minced garlic clove, 1 cup of seeded raisins, and 1 tablespoon of minced candied ginger. Put in a large kettle. Add 4 cups of brown sugar, 1 cup of vinegar, 3 teaspoons of salt, 1 teaspoon of mustard seed, 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon, ½ teaspoon of ground cloves, and ⅛ teaspoon of cayenne pepper. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until thick, about 2 hours. Seal hot in sterilized jars. This will make about 6 pints.
These pickles are good and I keep their rows well filled, but when it comes to the following mustard pickle I make astronomical quantities, for now that our family is separated, a dozen jars must sit under each Christmas tree.
Forgotten in the acclaim of For Whom the Bell Tolls is Ernest Hemingway’s earlier Green Hills of Africa in which he affectionately shortens his wife’s nickname of “Poor Old Mom” to “P.O.M.” The year of its publication saw the same initials appear, not too mysteriously, on my automobile and other more personal articles and they have clung to this favorite relish. Its original foundation was a Pennsylvania Dutch pickle recipe given me by the trained nurse who assisted at my son’s birth, and I am sure she would like to know that jars of it, wrapped in a month’s Sunday comics, cheered her “baby’s” lonely wartime exile in Alaska and Japan. Reader, I give you its first public appearance—the famous and sacred P.O.M. PICKLE.
Chop in bite-sized pieces 2 quarts of firm green tomatoes, 1 quart of peeled white onions, 1 bunch of celery, 2 each of seeded red and green peppers, 2 green peeled cucumbers, 1 pint of bottled sweet pickles, and 1 quart of large sour pickles. Separate the top of 1 large or 2 small cauliflowers into flowerets, chop the balance, and add both to the vegetables. Mix with ½ cup of salt, cover with water, and let stand overnight. Then just bring to a boil. Drain and return the vegetables to the kettle. Cover with a measured quantity of vinegar. For each 3 pints of vinegar allow 6 tablespoons of dry mustard, 1 tablespoon of turmeric, 3 cups of brown sugar, ½ cup of flour, and ⅛ teaspoon of cayenne pepper. Mix to a smooth thin paste with a little vinegar. Mix this with the vegetables. Put 2 tablespoons of whole allspice, 1 tablespoon each of whole cloves and cinnamon, and 2 tablespoons of mustard seed into a cloth bag or tea ball, add to the pickles, and simmer, stirring constantly, until the dressing thickens—about 15 minutes. Seal hot in sterilized jars. This is just the basic recipe. String or lima beans, boiled corn cut from the cob, and more cauliflower, can go in too, and vinegar and spices added in proportion. It will keep, covered, in a crock; and if possible let it rest 2 weeks or more before using. This is unrivaled with any meat, fish, or cheese. Chopped more finely, it is a natural for sandwiches or on crackers or toast for a quickly prepared appetizer. And let me here and now quash the rumor, started no doubt by jealous souls who do not know its secret, that in spite of the quantities we devour every year my family does not use it for toothpaste.
MADE MUSTARD. I found the recipe for this in an ancient volume of household hints and brought the directions up to date but the amount of vinegar is still variable. Rub together 8 tablespoons of dry mustard, 2 large minced garlic cloves and 6 teaspoons of olive oil until well blended. Add enough tarragon vinegar to make a stiff paste, then add 3 teaspoons of salt, 4 teaspoons of sugar, 2 teaspoons of pepper and ½ teaspoon of celery seed. Gradually beat in enough tarragon vinegar to make a thick batter. Give it one final beating and put into small wide-mouthed jars and cover with a thin layer of oil. Two-ounce face-cream jars are very good containers for this, odd as they sound, and the mustard will keep indefinitely. Do not fear a strong taste of garlic for that seems to vanish in the final elusive flavor.
STRAWBERRY CONSERVE is fruitier and not quite so thick as jam and has been very highly complimented by British friends. Stem 1 quart of berries—the larger the better—put in a colander and run cold water gently over them until clean. Then, just as gently, pour 1 quart of boiling water through the fruit. Drain and put in a saucepan with 1 cup of sugar and boil 5 minutes. Do not stir but shake the pan. Add 2 cups of sugar and simmer 15 minutes, still without stirring. Take from the fire and let the conserve stand overnight, then pour into sterilized jelly glasses and seal with melted paraffine.
SPICED PEACHES are a cross between preserves and pickles, are delicious with hot baked ham, and not so much trouble to make as they sound. Scald 7 pounds of slightly underripe peaches 5 minutes. Drain and plunge in cold water. Drain and remove the skins. If the peaches are really on the green side their covering may have to be helped off with a knife. Halve the peaches or leave whole, according to your fancy. Place the peaches in a deep bowl, make a syrup of 3 pounds of brown sugar, 1 pint of vinegar, and 1 ounce each of whole cinnamon and whole cloves, segregated in a cloth bag or tea ball. Bring to a boil and when the sugar is dissolved pour hot over the peaches and let stand overnight. The next day drain the syrup, boil it for 5 minutes, and pour back on the fruit. Repeat this the next two days, on the third day simmer the peaches in the syrup until just tender. Seal in sterilized jars. This makes 8 pints of halved peaches.
My Brandied Peaches are a direct hangover or result of Prohibition (remember?) when the only available intoxicant—except bathtub gin—was raw New Jersey applejack that would blow your hat in the creek when drunk straight. I still think the milder brands available now are better as a flavor in fruit than what my mother used to call “cooking brandy” and it is almost equally priced. BRANDIED PEACHES. Scald 3 pounds of firm peaches 1 or 2 minutes in boiling water and remove the skins. Halve or leave whole as you wish. Simmer a few at a time until just tender in a syrup of 1 pound of sugar and 1 cup of water. As they are finished, pack sterilized jars with the peaches, then bring the syrup to a boil, half fill each jar and then fill them up with the best apple whisky or brandy your pocketbook will stand, and seal. Pint jars will hold 4 medium-sized whole peaches and twice or three times as many halves. The amount of syrup given will make 4 to 6 pints, depending on the juiciness of the fruit. BRANDIED PEARS and CHERRIES are made the same way, using peeled and cored firm pears or stoned sweet cherries. All of these make a wonderful dessert by themselves or over vanilla ice cream.
BEACH PLUM JAM always brings memories of bright September weather and the pleading faces of earnest tousle-haired small boys offering sandy baskets of tediously picked fruit. Wash the fruit well, then just cover with water, crush lightly to start the juice flowing, and simmer until the fruit is soft. Force through a colander. Measure the pulp and add to it an equal amount of sugar. Simmer until thick, with the asbestos pad beneath, stirring constantly, then seal into sterilized jars or glasses.
WILD GRAPE JELLY brings back September, too, as well as Kipling’s “Philadelphia” with “Still the grapevine scents the dusk with its soul compelling musk.” Picking the fruit yourself beneath a blue fall sky is half the pleasure—that and the knowledge of the tangy accompaniment for game or meat that will follow. Therefore a big box or basket should be standard automobile equipment on any country trip after the leaves first start to turn. Wash and stem the fruit, which is best a little underripe. Put it in a kettle with water to cover the bottom, and mash until the juice starts to flow. Then continue simmering until the fruit is very soft. Strain overnight through a scalded jelly bag but do not squeeze if a clear jelly is desired. Measure the juice, return to the cleaned kettle, and boil rapidly for 10 minutes. Meanwhile heat an equal amount of sugar in the oven. Watch out, don’t let it burn. Add the hot sugar gradually to the boiling juice, boil for 5 minutes longer, skim, and pour into hot sterilized glasses.
CURRANT JELLY is made just the same way and APPLE or, even better, CRAB APPLE JELLY has the washed fruit quartered, just covered with water, simmered until soft, and then strained through the bag and finished as above.
Father’s favorite joke—which Mother considered a little bawdy for young ears—had to do with a puzzled flock of newly hatched chicks who discovered an orange in their nest. Finally the oldest explained “That’s the orange Mama laid.” My recipe for the sweet is almost as hoary and unoriginal as the story, but unlike the pun it will cheer the glummest breakfaster.
ORANGE MARMALADE. Select thin-skinned fruit. Wipe and slice into slivers 6 oranges and 2 lemons, discarding the seeds. This can be done with the coarse blade of the food chopper but a really sharp knife gives a much better appearing result. Measure the sliced fruit and add twice the quantity of water. Simmer 5 minutes, then pour into an earthen bowl and let stand, covered, overnight. The next morning, or afternoon, bring the fruit and water to a boil and simmer about 1 hour or a little longer, until the bits of rind are just tender. It can rest again for another night if more important cooking is in the offing. Then measure the fruit and its juice, add an equal amount of sugar, bring to a boil, and simmer until just thick. Old cookbooks say to tell this stage when the jam “sheets” off a spoon but constant stirring and average intelligence is really all that is necessary. Let the marmalade cool—overnight again if you wish—before spooning into sterilized glasses or jars and sealing. A grapefruit can be added to the fruit before the water and sugar, but remove the tough core and the membrane between the segments before chopping. This makes AMBER JAM. Either recipe takes a while for the cooking, so it really pays to let the work stretch through two or three days.
When our daughter was expecting her first baby, she and I whiled away the long afternoons before that much-delayed event by making the winter’s supply of marmalade. The needs of two families filled a very big kettle and the simmering seemed endless but—a stern and experienced midwife—I made the poor child stand and stir. Just as we set it finally aside to cool there came the first intimation that things were happening, and I spent the early hours of the next morning in the cheerless, badly lighted waiting-room of a maternity hospital. But when I dragged home for a late breakfast, having just seen our much-desired oldest grandchild, the little girl to whom this book is dedicated, there was also the welcome sight of the finished sweet spread.
