Mom's Biscuits, and a Jam Tasting

My son Matthew was in town for a few days and as always,  there was too little time and too much to do.    He is a sucker for anything I cook, and always looks forward to home cooked anything.  Matt hates to make any specific food requests because as much as he enjoys my cooking, he doesn't want me to be slave to the kitchen when he is in town.  We usually strike a good balance with some home cooking and a visit to someplace for seafood, and the mandatory pizza.     

Matt's last visit was in June during strawberry season.  We all went strawberry picking back then.  He never got to see the fruits of our labor in jam form.  I made strawberry jam and strawberry rhubarb jam from that bounty.  As a matter of fact, he missed my whole jam packed, jam making summer.  I thought it would be fun to include a Jam Tasting in Sunday's breakfast.  You just can't taste jam straight out of the jar.  It needs a vehicle.  Well, when Matthew is home, the only vehicle of choice is biscuits.  Matthew loves biscuits.  I mean, he LOVES biscuits. So...I made some biscuits...and he tasted.

Italian Prune Plum Jam and Some Reflection

SOME REFLECTION
     I really did not intend to write anything about the 10th Anniversary of 9-11 in this post.  What could I possibly say that hasn't already been said?  On the other hand, how could I ignore it?  It was a day that changed our world forever.  It was a day that touched the lives of my family, friends and neighbors.  It was a day that changed our country and maybe for the first time, made us feel vulnerable as a nation.
     After hearing the news, I left work and after what seemed to be an endless commute home, I turned on the TV and watched in utter disbelief.  I kept thinking to myself... this could not really be happening.  I would walk out my front door and look to the sky.  It was eerily silent.  No planes coming or going from nearby JFK.  Occasionally I would hear the scream of a military jet, an unfamiliar sound around these parts.  The sky was a different color and the smoke obscured the western sky for days.  I remember going down the beach with Melissa and seeing U.S. Naval ships sitting off the coast of Long Beach.  I remember telling her that they were there to protect us and that everything would be OK.   I think I was trying to convince myself.  This really was happening, and it was too real.
     The weeks and months that followed were filled with sadness and fear.  What I came to realize in the following days, is that I should never take anything for granted.  All these years, I would say goodbye to Paul and my kids as they left the house in the morning, but never really bothered to be truly thankful upon their returned.  They were supposed to return.  It was expected that they would return.  It was something that I just took for granted.  On September 11, 2001,  too many people who were expected to return,  never returned home to their loved ones.
     Every year, the world becomes a more complicated place.  I was thinking about that a lot when I started this post a few days ago.  Sometimes I wish we could just go back to that safe and secure feeling that we had as children.  Perhaps we were really no safer, we just didn't know any better.

THE RECIPE
     When I was growing up, my best friend's father had a beautiful vegetable garden.  He also had a few plum trees in the backyard.  One tree produced beautiful, juicy red plums.  The other tree produced small dark plums with green insides.  Those small dark plums with the green insides were also very tart and just didn't compare with the taste of the red juicy plums.  The red plums were the prize plums.  The little dark plums were usually left on the tree, feeling sad and dejected, until they fell to the ground and turned to mush.  We called those plums "ockies".  I have no idea why, but that became their name for all time.

Drunken Fig Jam

So much to do, so little time.  That's how I feel lately.  This weekend has been a whirlwind of canning, cooking and baking and feeling somewhat pressured.  This pressure was all brought on by myself.  I have an obligation (I hate that word) to not waste the gazillion sweet millions tomatoes and bumper crop of eggplant in my garden.  I have herbs that need to be dried, frozen or turned into something else.  Oh, and prolific jalapenos need pickling, add that to my to do list.  Before I get into the eggplant and tomato mess,  I found myself running to the market on Friday to pick up a baguette and some garlic.  I decided to cruise through the produce section since I was there anyway.  I noticed the new crop of early apples creeping in and it suddenly dawned on me, summer is fading away and will soon be just a memory.  I walked straight past the peaches and quickly did an about face and decided to pick up just a few more pounds.  Then I zoomed in on some Italian prune plums, and thought to myself, isn't there something I wanted to make with those?  Oh, I'll pick up just a few pounds of those too.  And then there were figs, beautiful plump fresh figs.  Now how much longer are these babies going to be around?  Yes, I talk to myself mostly because I like my answers.  There were so many fig recipes I had planned to try.  A few pounds of figs magically jumped into my basket.


I soon returned home with my figs, plums, peaches and yes, my baguette and garlic. They all joined the  eggplant, tomatoes, jalapenos, herbs and I forget to mention, the over-ripened bananas that I promised to magically turn into muffins for Paul.  Like I said, so much to do, so little time.


It is now Monday morning.  My frenzy is over, at least for now.  My kitchen is sort of sticky and is crying out for a good cleaning.  I have lots of blogging material and tons of pictures to sort through.  But this weekend was not all work.  We got to go out one night for a nice osso bucco dinner and last night we went to Jones Beach to see Stevie Nicks in concert. (yea Groupon!)  Yup, its Labor Day.  The unofficial end of summer.  Today I may just take the day off, because tomorrow at 8:30AM my quiet summer is over, but that's another story.  I won't go there.  I don't even want think about it.  I do want to tell you about this drunken fig jam.

Strawberry Jam... Forever

Strawberry season is in full swing on Long Island.  Last week when the gang was here, we went picking.  I'm not sure if the harsh winter took its toll on the strawberry plants, or the heavy rain and extreme heat this spring was just too much, but the berries just didn't pack the same punch as they had  in  previous years.  Nevertheless, we picked.  We picked about 10 quarts in all and needless to say, we ate a lot of strawberries.  I wanted to make a small batch of jam, but we were just too busy, and it got so darn hot, and quite frankly, the berries weren't that great.  I felt sort of bad...I've always made jam after a day of picking.

My picking team:  Mike, Melissa, Matt, Lauren and Paul in the back row

Lauren, the Strawberry Princess

So now it's a week later.  The Sunday morning Rockville Centre Farmer's Market opened last week and it was on my list of "things to do" this weekend.  Heaven knows I don't need any spring vegetables since I have a bounty of my own growing in my backyard.  I wanted to see Casey the fish man.  Yes, we have fish at our farmer's market...a benefit of living on an island.  I got in my car at 8:00AM and turned the radio on....Strawberry Fields Forever.....   Suddenly, I had jam on my mind (and the Beatles).  It's cool I thought, only 58 degrees.  Perfect weather for standing over a pot of boiling jam.   I thought of this photo that I love.  Melissa took it few weeks ago while riding her bike through Central Park in Strawberry Fields...

The song, the photograph, Sunday morning with the Beatles, cool weather....its a sign.   I must make some jam.  Although I didn't pick them, I found some beautiful, delicious berries.

Last year I made Strawberry Balsamic Jam, but Paul found it objectionable.  When he saw me taking out my canning gear...he pleaded  that I not add any "stuff" to the jam.  He's a purest at heart.  So, I made some plain, old fashioned jam.  Since the berries were ever so slightly under ripe and I was adding lemon,  I  did not use pectin.  I used a bit more sugar than usual because the berries were a bit tart. You can adjust sugar to taste.   It turned out great and just I hope I don't regret only making a small batch.  Please see my previous post to learn more about the ins and outs of canning.  Now a days I like to make jam in 1/2  pint jars.  When my kids were little and I made a lot of PB and J's, I used pint or even quart jars.  You can double the recipe, but you will need a HUGE pot.  You have to allow it to boil hard and believe me, you do not want this to boil over!  Once you've made this simple jam, I swear you will never buy strawberry jam in a grocery store again.

Blueberry Jam Session

Blueberries are still showing up at the farmer's market.  If you love blueberries, you should consider putting up some blueberry jam.  I did.  Now I have little jars of summer sitting in my pantry, ready to open on a bleak winter's day.  But you had better hurry....blueberries won't be around much longer.

                                            

                                   

If you haven't done any canning, you should do a little reading first.  This is a good site, loaded with information http://www.pickyourown.org/water_bath_canning_directions.php . Don't let canning frighten you.  Generally speaking, be sure you read through your recipe and plan to do your canning on a day when you do not feel rushed and you can give it your full attention. There are no safe shortcuts when it comes to canning.  Blueberry jam is a great place to start.  It is practically foolproof.  The addition of lime to this jam makes it something special.