LIKE MANY SOUTHERNERS, I GREW UP WITH CANNING AND PRESERVING.

My family always planted a large kitchen garden near the house and often kept another plot for corn in the fertile soil down by the river. We ate food fresh in season and preserved the garden’s goodness for later too. My mother and grandmother taught me to freeze black-eyed peas, butterbeans, and creamed corn; to transform peaches, wild blackberries, and Scuppernong grapes into jams and jellies; to can green beans and tomatoes in summer; and to put up peanuts, pears, and spicy chowchow in the fall. They showed me how sliced cucumbers became bread-and-butter pickles and how quartered cucumbers, packed with herbs and spices, turned into tangy dill spears.

I treasure those memories and our family tradition. What’s more, I still use those skills today. While there’s something seemingly old-fashioned about what we Southerners call “putting up,” preserving remains an integral part of any good Southern cook’s repertoire. My family would preserve gallons at a time in all-day marathons, both at home and at community canning centers. That kind of volume and time commitment can be daunting for modern cooks and those who lack big gardens or the time to tend them. But, truth be told, anyone who can boil a pot of water can make a pickle. You don’t need a truckload of produce for a small-batch jelly recipe. And refrigerator or freezer versions of pickles and preserves help even the busiest cooks enjoy putting up.

No matter the size of the batch, there’s something amazingly satisfying about preserving food. I love the aroma of vinegar and warm spices and the impromptu steam facial I get while making pickles. Pushing a fingertip through a puddle of gemlike liquid on an ice-cold plate and seeing that your jelly is indeed, gelling, brings a joy like no other. I smile every time I hear the subtle pop of a lid dimpling down on a cooling jar, the telltale sign of a successful seal. To see colorful jars cooling on a windowsill—with the sun illuminating them like stained glass—is delicious in more ways than one.

More than that, putting up foods at the height of their freshness means you can have summer-ripe tomatoes in January and July-perfect peaches in February, and you don’t have to muddle through winter with flavorless produce shipped from afar. Preserving can be economical too: Food is often least expensive when it is most plentiful and close at hand. And when you put up food yourself, you know where it comes from and exactly what’s in the jar.

To be fair, canning is more than simply boiling water. Food science factors in when it comes to keeping good flavors in and bad microbes out. Most importantly, you need a reliable recipe and a bit of common sense. If you’ve picked up this book, you are well on your way to enjoying the sensual and practical pleasures of putting up. The recipes in this collection are based on recognized canning procedures, tested to perfection by kitchen professionals, and carefully written to address modern food safety concerns. They come with the seal of approval of Southern Living, one of the only magazines I wasn’t allowed to cut up for paper dolls as a child. Southern Living recipes have been a delicious and trusted part of my life for as long as I can remember, combining established traditions with updated flavors and the casual ease that is a hallmark of life in the South.

This perfectly sized collection includes recipes for the shelf, the fridge, and the freezer, as well as recipes for the table to help you utilize the foods you’ve bottled and jarred. Small batches and step-by-step instructions are certain to lessen anxiety for newcomers to canning, and recipes with modern twists such as Cardamom-Plum Jam and Peanut-Washed Bourbon are ideal for those already bitten by the preserving bug.

There’s even a putting-up party chapter from me to get your friends and family in on the action—complete with menus, planning tips, and ideas for labeling and sharing little jars that are guaranteed to bring big smiles all year round.

Bon appétit, y’all!