Jam

Season: Late summer to autumn. The aromatic essences of fresh herbs and flowers can be captured beautifully in a jelly. These preserves are great to have in the kitchen, as they add a sweet piquancy to all kinds of food, simple and rich. Cooking apples and crab apples are both ideal choices for the basic jelly. Excellent sources of pectin and acid, they nevertheless have gentle flavors that will not overwhelm the herbs. Serve mint jelly with lamb, sage with fish, basil with poultry or game, parsley with ham, and rose-petal jelly (see below) with wafer-thin, buttered bread. Any herb jelly will also be delicious with soft cheeses, pâtés, and terrines.

Season: June to October. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, whose recipe this is, thinks the secret of success is to pick the raspberries on a hot, dry day, aiming for a good mixture of ripe and almost-ripe fruit, then to make the jam immediately to capture the full flavor of the berries. The light boiling and lower-than-normal quantity of sugar produce a loose, soft-set jam with a fresh, tangy flavor. Low-sugar jams of this type are often called fridge jams (see p. 36). In fact, as long as it is capped when still above 195°F, this preserve will keep well in the pantry. However, once it is opened, you must keep it in the fridge. It won’t last long after opening – maybe 2 or 3 weeks – but as it tastes so very, very good, this is unlikely to be a problem. It’s one of those things you’ll find yourself eating straight from the jar, maybe in the middle of the night! This light, soft jam is fantastic in cakes or sherry trifles or stirred into creamy rice puddings. Best of all, layer it with toasted rolled oats, cream, Drambuie, and honey for a take on Cranachan, the traditional Scottish dessert.

Season: June to August. In my jam company days, when we would produce nearly fifteen thousand jars of preserves each week, my mum would still bring me jars of her homemade black currant jam. Sometimes I wondered if I needed another jar in the house, but I always enjoyed it immensely – black currant jam is an all-time favorite, with a flavor that is rarely rivaled. It’s also very easy to make. The key is to ensure that the black currants are softened sufficiently before the sugar is added, or the skins will toughen and be unpleasantly chewy. Use this in all the usual jammy ways with bread, toast, pancakes, yogurt, rice pudding, cakes, tarts, and, of course, scones and clotted cream.

Season: May to August. After a dismal result with my strawberry jam at the 2007 Uplyme and Lyme Regis Horticultural Show, I decided to get my act together and work out a recipe that i could rely on to get me that much-coveted first prize next time. My kitchen soon took on the appearance of a strawberry jam factory, with coded batches piled just about everywhere. I thought I’d nearly made the grade on batch three, but the tweaking for batch four caused mayhem in the jam pan. However, batch five seemed to come alive from the moment the lemon juice was added, and I knew it was going to be just right – bright in color, with some soft whole fruit and, of course, that wonderful, intense strawberry taste. Strawberries are low in pectin. Using sugar with added pectin helps to attain a lovely set and a flavor that isn’t too sickly sweet. Use freshly picked, dry fruit – not too big, or they’ll blow to bits when the jam is bubbling away. However, if you’re using very small fruit, make sure they’re not too hard and seedy.

Season: June to mid-July. Red currants make a superb and very versatile jelly. The red currant season is short, just a few weeks in midsummer, so make sure you don’t miss it. If you haven’t time to make your jelly straight away, you can pick the currants and freeze for later. This is an endlessly useful jelly. A classic condiment to accompany roast lamb or game, it can also be used to enhance the flavor of gravies, casseroles, and piquant sauces. It makes an excellent glaze for fresh fruit tarts too.

Season: Mid-January to late March. Early or forced rhubarb has been produced in West Yorkshire since the 1870s, as growers discovered that the heavy clay soil and cold winter climate suited the plant (a native of Siberia). Sequestered in dark sheds, carefully cultivated rhubarb crowns send forth slender, bright pink stems much more delicate in flavor than the thick green shafts of outdoor-grown rhubarb that appear later in the year. This is one of my favorite ways to capture the earthy flavor of rhubarb. It’s a plant that contains very little pectin, so the jam definitely requires an extra dose. The shortish boil time helps to preserve the fabulous color of the stems. I like to add a little Seville orange juice, but juice from sweet oranges works well too. This light, soft jam is good mixed with yogurt or spooned over ice cream, or you can warm it and use to glaze a bread and butter pudding after baking.

The spice and heat in this jam make it more at ease with meats and cheese than toast. As for the Babylon term, it’s simply in relation to the avid devotion that the world’s kitchen has for reggae music!

Jam making doesn’t always have to be a big production. I sometimes make small amounts and keep it in the refrigerator instead of canning it for unrefrigerated storage. Apricot jam is especially versatile as a glaze for an apple tart or almond cake, or as the base for a soufflé.

Homemade fruit jam is one of life’s great pleasures, so thank goodness it’s also one of life’s easiest. Although many people think of the summer months as canning season, excellent fruit jam can be made any time of year. But, while doing so is always fun, it makes good economic sense only when you have access to large quantities of fruit at relatively low prices. Assuming you aren’t working from your own garden, you can save money and make it a fun family outing by visiting your local farmer’s market or picking your own fruit at one of the “pick-your-own” farms in your area. The prices can’t be beat, and you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing exactly where the fruit came from. Keep in mind that you may need to adjust the sugar depending on the sweetness of the fruit.

The Southern climate is inhospitable to all but the bravest sour cherry trees, whose exact locations are often as closely guarded as those of choice swimming holes and wild berry patches. These sour cherry preserves, which are wildly good on Favorite Buttermilk Biscuits (page 51), are what I often make when I’m lucky enough to get my hands on some sour cherries.

When I spent a day making jams with Stefano Frigerio, a chef-turned-food-producer, I knew I had found a kindred spirit. Frigerio, who sells his Copper Pot Food Co. jams, sauces, and pastas at Washington, D.C., farmers’ markets, resisted set-in-stone recipes and instead cautioned me that the most important thing is to taste, especially if you don’t want the jam to be too sweet. In the true spirit of preserving, use only fresh, local, in-season berries for this jam. (There’s really no reason to preserve something that you can get all year-round, so why use supermarket strawberries?) Without any added pectin, this jam has a slightly loose consistency, which I like, given that my favorite use is to stir it into yogurt.

This recipe started the way all jam recipes should: I came into a bounty of stunningly delicious, in-season fruit. It wasn’t from a blueberry patch like those in southern Maine my homesteading sister, Rebekah, picks from, but it was the closest thing I have to such: the Dupont Circle FreshFarm Market. One of my favorite vendors there, Tree and Leaf, had blueberries one summer that were better than any I’ve tasted outside Maine. I paid a pretty penny for them, went home, and broke open Mes Confitures, the tome by famous French jam maker Christine Ferber. I found her take on a wild blueberry–lemon jam, and I took shameless liberties with it, as anybody working with much different fruit should. I used much less sugar (her wild ones must be very tart), and streamlined the process. The result is a celebration of the blueberry, brightened with slices of candied lemon, peel and all. Use it anytime you want good jam: on toast, stirred into yogurt, and even as the basis of such desserts as Blueberry-Lemon Tart with Toasted Coconut (page 165).

Make this in late June or early July when strawberries are abundant at your local farmers’ market, and you’ll enjoy it for months to come. Pectin, a water-soluble substance used as a thickener in jams and jellies, is available in many supermarkets. Serve this jam with any of Bubby’s fruit breads or muffins. You can also substitute blackberries, raspberries, or blueberries for the strawberries. You can mix the berries, too. Though you don’t need to sterilize the three 1-quart storage jars, you should wash the berries well. We are not canning here, or sealing, so it’s not the same process. This jam will keep for three to four weeks in the refrigerator.

When I see Jonagold apples at the market, I buy them, always thinking of my sister, Jona. My parents got a little creative with her name. It’s feminine for John, my father’s name. A blend between Jonathan and Golden Delicious, Jonagold apples are great for apple butter and applesauce. They have a tendency to soften in the refrigerator, so they are best used shortly after harvest.

Muscadines are wild American grapes native to the Southeast. Scuppernongs are a variety of muscadines. Both grapes have a tough, thick skin that ranges in color from deep purple to greenish bronze. There are scuppernong and Muscadine arbors more than fifty years old at my family’s home. The thick branches are gnarled and twisted, forming a large canopy instead of growing in a row like traditional grapes. Dede made muscadine wine and stored it in the basement. It was unfiltered and quite sweet. We recently found a bottle, at least twelve years old, that had aged and mellowed to a honey liqueur. The wine-making ended when Dede passed away, but Meme and Mama have always made jelly from the copious amounts of fruit. I think I was in first grade when I had my first taste of store-bought jelly. It was the ubiquitous Concord grape jelly of childhood, and I remember not liking it. I had never had jelly before that wasn’t homemade. My friend’s mother very likely thought I was either a complete brat or a complete hick. As children, my sister and I would stand for hours at the arbor, using both hands and mechanically eating the fruit like locusts. We’d squeeze the fruit into our mouths and spit out the seeds and bitter skins. Once, I reached into the arbor to pick a greenish globe and just as my fingers started to close on the fruit, it moved. My scuppernong was the head of a green snake. Scared out of my wits, I ran screaming into the house. Meme’s constant reminder about staying out of the bushes because of snakes had finally come true.

Blueberries bring to mind fingers stained purple-blue, fruity pies and cobblers, and warm, fresh-from-the-oven muffins. When buying blueberries, look for plump, firm, fresh berries that are a light, powdery, blue-gray. If refrigerated, fresh blueberries will keep for up to three weeks. When blueberries are in season, freeze them in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet. Once they are frozen solid, transfer to a freezer-safe container. This is a basic formula for making jam. I’ve added a small amount of candied ginger at the end. The underlying ginger flavor is subtle, but it really complements the blueberry.

The slow cooker is an excellent tool for making small batches of jams and preserves—just enough for a week’s worth of morning toast—without any fuss at all. You can use your stovetop recipes, just adjust for longer cooking times. Begin on low and end on high with the cover off, and plan on watching somewhat carefully for the last hour. Forsake the pectin and enjoy the spoonable texture of nothing but fruit.

In my humble opinion, red plums make the best preserves, and certainly one of the easiest. Their skins give the jam a pleasant tartness and contain so much pectin that even inexperienced jam makers will be blushing like rosy plums with the pride of success. Tossing the fruit with sugar and letting it stand for a few hours intensifies the color of the strawberries so that the jam cooks up with a vivid crimson color.