Strawberry Fig Jam, with break for Hot Dog

Phase two of what I have coined Canaganza ushered in the red period of our day: Strawberry Fig Jam cooked while sipping a Rogue dry hopped red ale.



We subbed figs for rhubarb in this stage when we failed to locate the rhubarb patch at Berkeley Bowl West, and the combination certainly made for some nice photo ops. Ruby red against plumesque purple was just a photo waiting to be taken. Then I had a little affair with the part of the recipe that instructed us to combine 10 cups of sugar with all that fruit to let it mellow for an hour. Sugar is rather photogenic, in my defense.



Cara's help was instrumental for this part because she not only chopped strawberries, but also juiced all the lemons. You may or may not know that the hero that juices the lemons is contributing the most important part to any jam making project. In the end, we maybe could have used a few more lemons for our monster batch of jam because it's a little on the saucey side. Then again, I don't really mind the saucey side.


After that we had to let it cook for what seemed an eternity, so we broke for a hot dog snack and a root beer float out back. It was exactly what the Preservation Doctor ordered, a Top Dog with everything.



And before we knew it, we were ladeling the hot jam into sterilized jars like professional jammers. Next up: Dilly Pickles.

Full of Beans

Check out the texture on these beans that Bert brought us. He's learning lots in the way of roasting coffee, and shared a miniature batch of French roast with us last week. Grinding them up for brewing in the French press, they dissolved into papery, oily little flakes before my eyes; like some precious metal, they actually sparkled a little. The whole pot felt very ceremonious, delivered in that hand stamped tiny bag. It was a nice treat, a step above our usual fare.



I've been feeling like an especially lucky person recently. Bert brought us coffee and gave us a really amazing old Indian cookbook. Miriam gave us surplus heirloom tomatoes and quince jam. And Karrie gave me recently TWO lovely bottles of bitters out of the goodness of her heart. Whatever I did to have such generous friends, I do not know, but I'd like to become that sort of friend myself one of these days.

Today though, I'm happy to count these blessings and put off repayment until tomorrow.