It is only March and I have already made my first batch of preserves from freshly picked fruit. Yep, fifteen 8 oz jars in total. Eight of which are proudly displayed in my pantry. This is a sign to me that I am going to have a good year; the crops are coming in, and this almost -Southern lady is ready for them! Bring them on; my kitchen is armed with canning equipment and good spirits. Besides, I have some time on my hands seeing that I am currently jobless and still waiting for God, hint-hint.

First off, I am making Strawberry Preserves- Southern style opposed to Northern style. I believe, other than the obvious geographical difference, there is a difference in the manner in which they are made. I am not being a smart-alec when I say this, but the Southern method is a slow method, which is good. No wonder God has me cooking Southern for a year; rather than being a short -order cook in a New York Deli, slinging corned beef and pastrami as fast as I can slice it. I am most hopeful that this slowing down is a large part of God not wanting me to miss my calling, which could be arriving any day now.

I did not spend my life’s fortune buying the biggest,plumpest, most beautiful and best tasting strawberries at the grocery store. ( When actually considering my financial condition, would not be to0 hard to do.) But, thank God this is Charleston, South Carolina (versus Charleston ,West Virginia) which I imagine is lovely, but still under snow. This Charleston is blessed with a long growing crop season, of which strawberries are included. I have had the pleasure of picking my first of many batches of fresh strawberries; just a $1.50 per pound at Ambrosia Farms, if I picked them myself.

This lady was not going to miss out on picking them; it was fun and peaceful-except for when the family with 3 noisy kids came running and screaming- disrupting my nirvana. I activated my super -tuner outer skills and ignored their idiotic bantering. Nothing was stopping me from a peaceful day on the farm.

How could I resist coming home with more Strawberries than I needed? It brought back memories and offered a future memory of being connected to the South, the new South for me. At the risk of repeating myself, which is something I try hard not to do, my Southern Buttermilk Caramel Pound Cake also included a story about my trip to the strawberry farm. If you should feel so inclined and would like to learn more, consider yourself pointed in the right direction. If you are a guy reading this and find yourself lost, do stop and ask for directions.

Let’s get safety out of the way before we proceed. I am not a certified preserver. There, it is said. I am off the hook -should someone not have the common sense to read up on how to safely handle hot boiling sugar syrup or how to protect everyone who gets to eat these preserves from food poisoning. The internet has a lot of good sources with step by step pictures showing you what to do. Take the time to check them out before proceeding.

Although I think I am still somewhat sane, it might sound like I have gone mad because it is just impossible for me to cook for less than 5 people. This includes just about everything I make. Naturally, I ended up multiplying everything in this recipe by five. Let’s just say I was jamming for a long time, and not to any good tunes, except:” Why am I making so much jam? which pretty much occupied my head the whole time I was cooking. But, by the time I had made the preserves, I had a pretty good beat to “Why am I making so much jam? Perhaps I have an ear for music after-all!

I took some liberties with this recipe, lowering the amount of sugar and perhaps could have even lowered it some more. My preserves never did thicken the way I would have wanted them to. What I learned was that the recipe I used is a somewhat old -fashioned way of making preserves; without the use of pectin. For the next go around I might add a little pectin. This is not a good preserve unless you have a little edge on your toast- it will run off and make a complete, sticky mess. Keep the crust on; don’t wimp out and remove it.

Garden Strawberry Preserves

Edna Lewis, The Taste of Country Cooking

3 cups of crushed berries

2 cups sugar

Wash the berries in a bowl of cold water to make sure they are free of grit and dust. Remove the berries by hand and place them on a clean, dry towel to drain. Then, remove the caps and crush them, with a clean (not dirty) odorless, wooden pestle or a strong coffee mug (preferably empty.) Pour into a non-aluminum saucepan and set over a low flame to heat. Meanwhile, heat the sugar- either in a double boiler or in a dish in the oven -till very hot (about 10 minutes, 350F oven). Be careful, it is Hot! Hot! Hot! Now, pour the hot sugar over the berries, turning the burner up while stirring the sugar around. The cooking should be as brisk as possible to prevent scorching; it should take about 9 minutes in all. As soon as the preserves begin to boil, a scum will rise on the surface. Skim it off right away with a wooden or silver spoon. It is much better to skim while it’s rapidly boiling, because that seems to cause the scum to remain in a mass and it’s easierto dip it out- without getting too much of the syrup. After 9 minutes of rapid cooking, pour the preserves into hot jars, filling about 1/8 inch from the top. Set the jars onto a surface to dry and cool. When cool, carefully melt paraffin wax and pour into the filled jars. When paraffin is cool, put on the lids and seal.

Again, my preserves were a little runny, which could be because instead of pouring hot wax over the top, I mistakenly poured hot water over the top. If you are going to be totally bummed out with runny preserves add a little pectin, following the directions on the package.

I am set with preserves for the year. I love making preserves even though it is a lot of work. However, this is definitely not something I would ever want to do for a living. No matter how good God thinks I am at this, please God do not assign me the strawberry preserve career, if it is available. I am aware that God knows what is best, but I might have a little more first- hand knowledge about what would or wouldn’t make me happy. A jam career is not it. Now, if God wants to offer this career to the Gingersnap Lady and give me back my cookies, well I certainly am open to that!

The experience of making jam was a blessing on many levels. It just plain, flat out feels so darn good being in the kitchen cooking. Our home smells good, and I feel full of life and food. I am loving the life part. The few extra pounds? Not so happy about that. Enough said. Enjoy the preserves on hot buttered toast or a scone.