One of the most amazing but frustrating things about moving all the time is that I am constantly re-learning local produce. While most of the produce itself has remained the same from city to city and state to state, the timing has shifted a month or two or even three in different climates. But tree fruit. Tree fruit has been the one genre of produce that has just been completely unpredictable as I’ve moved from place to place. DC’s tree fruit scene was insanely awesome. Durham, on the other hand, not so much (though GOD I miss the blueberries.) Columbus had great apples and decent peaches, but not really any cherries or plums to speak of.

Moving back to Colorado, I knew I would return to a land of great, high-altitude peaches from Palisade and other farming communities on the Western Slope. But I did not expect the cherries.

Oh em gee the cherries!

Colorado has had rather a bumper crop this  year, and I’m obsessed. For weeks now, I’ve been eating them faster than I can buy them. In fact I COMPLETELY missed strawberry season because I was so distracted by these round little rubies. Which, actually, is fine with me because the cherry is my new number one.

And not just for dessert. I’ve been playing around with this savory cherry jam and I’m kind of really into it. It’s a super-quick roasted refrigerator jam that, aside from pitting a pound of cherries, is pretty hands off. Nice and smoky with a smoked paprika, it’s very, very tasty.

This jam is crazy good on pork chops. I smeared some on crackers with cream cheese while I was stress-eating at work and it was utterly delightful. And my favorite use so far was as a condiment to elevate what was a pretty basic sandwich.

Try it! Love it! Buy a cherry pitter to make even more of it!

Savory Cherry Jam
Adapted from Eating Well

Note: I have not tested the pH of this jam to determine if it is safe for water-bath canning. Stick this is as a fridge jam for now.

1 lb (about 2 cups) sweet cherries, pitted and halved
juice from 1/2 a naval orange (about 1/4 c)
1/2 T fresh thyme (or 1/4 tsp dried)
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1/4 tsp kosher salt
3-4 cranks freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 450°F. Combine all ingredients in a small baking dish. Roast for 35-40 minutes, stirring several times, until cherries are softened and juices have thickened.

Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator.

I eat rather a lot of pasta. When I started writing this post, I had to go back to see what stories I’ve already told you about my lifelong noodle-y obsession, just to make sure I wasn’t repeating something.

I’ve already mentioned that as a kid, I loved spaghetti with butter and parmesan cheese above all other things, and in fact I rarely tolerated the annoying hindrance of spaghetti sauce. It was sloppy, acidic, and mostly just not my thing. I still remember the first time I actually enjoyed a smear of red sauce atop a mound of pasta. Bizarrely, it was on a camping trip. In our open-air kitchen of two camp stoves and a picnic table, Dad carefully cooked a pot of pasta in one pot and in another, he combined a can of basic tomato sauce with a seasoning mix.  I don’t know why I opted to try the sauce that time, but I suddenly realized this red sauce thing wasn’t necessarily so bad after all. To this day, however, I’m still pretty picky about my red sauces and rarely order them at a restaurant as a result.

There are a few brands and varieties I’ve discovered at the grocery over the years that I like rather well, but once I began canning my own basic tomato sauce, I felt it was time to finally find the homemade version I was seeking.

Since there are approximately one gazillion recipes for spaghetti sauce out there, each one claiming to be better than the last, it was a bit intimidating to know where to begin. Some swore by the addition of carrots and peppers, others piled on the sugar, and still others demanded the tomatoes be practically raw to achieve pure spaghetti sauce bliss. Fresh herbs, dried herbs, lots of spice, none at all – there really are so many ways to do this. How was I to know what I liked the most?

So I began experimenting. And after quite a few acceptable batches, I finally found the combination of herbs, seasoning, garlic, and onions that makes my soul sing.

For those of you who are fresh-herb-purists out there, you’ll probably decry my little piles of dried leaves and insist that their flavor is lacking. And perhaps you’re right. But I’ve loved the way this sauce turns out every time, and I like that it’s always something I can throw together without a trip to the grocery for delicate green leaves. If you do want to try fresh herbs, you’ll probably need more than the quantities listed below to achieve the same density of flavor.

And for you fresh-tomato-purists out there: do you know how many months of the year I can buy high-quality, delicious tomatoes in Colorado About four. One third of the year. Great spaghetti sauce does not need to start from fresh tomatoes the night it is served, in my opinion. In fact that would take FOREVER to cook. Since I can my own tomatoes, I am lucky that I know where they came from and what’s in the sauce. I love that I can pull a bottle of that summer sunshine from the pantry and have a deep, vibrant spaghetti sauce ready in half an hour. There’s no way I’m starting from fresh tomatoes, especially at this time of year when the only tomatoes I can buy are, erm, horrible.

So here you have it: a delicious, flavorful spaghetti sauce that you can make year-round, without the need for anything that is out of season. I love this sauce on every pasta I’ve thrown it over – spaghetti, spaghetti with meatballs, manicotti, lasagne… the list goes on. When doubled, it takes a pound of ground beef perfectly for the creation of manicotti and lasagne.

Give it a shot!

Favorite Quick Spaghetti Sauce

1-2 tsp olive oil
1/2 c diced yellow onion
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 pint basic tomato sauce
1 T sugar
1 tsp dried parsley
1 tsp dried basil
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/4 tsp dried thyme
1 tsp salt
pinch black pepper

Heat olive oil in a small sauce pan over medium heat. Add onion and garlic and cook until onion is translucent and garlic has just a bit of color. Add remaining ingredients and bring to a boil. Cook until sauce has reached desired consistency.

Use an immersion blender, blender, or food processor to puree the sauce until smooth.

Serve over literally any pasta, or use as the sauce in manicotti or lasagne.

Two years ago, I wrote a rather desperate post about my first experience in bulk tomato canning. I scarcely realized the task I had undertaken, did not have pots quite large enough or a food mill worth its weight in feathers, and I had unwittingly committed to waaaaay to many products for a two-day stint. At the time, I wasn’t sure it was worth the effort, and there are least a few moments that tears dripped down my tomato-flecked face.

But over the course of that year, I grew quite fond of the sauces I had made and became rather dependent on them in my cooking. When tomato season rolled around again, I decided to tackle the project a second time with a few changes. I reduced the variety of products, but I also added about 25% more tomatoes since I had run out of many favorites in the weeks previous. However, the project still produced a vast amount of stress. I had to do my canning at a friend’s apartment (I didn’t have the right kind of stove to manage it), which meant packing up all my supplies and commandeering a kitchen that was not my own. More tomato-stained tears were had.

They say third time is the charm, and in this case I agree: I tackled my tomatoes this year with some MAJOR upgrades that turned this somewhat dreaded experience into an exciting one.

I know many of you are completely uninterested in large-scale canning. Even with upgraded equipment and a few years of experience, putting up 120 pounds of tomatoes (!!!) is a massive amount of work. However, if you are interested but have not approached the craft because it seems too daunting, I want to share with you a few of the things I’ve learned that I wish so much I had known the first time around.

Get the Right Tools

I know this sounds like a no-brainer. Canning requires lots of unique tools, many of which are now finally available at average grocery stores. But honestly, I am thoroughly convinced that the biggest key to my success this year centered around two new items: a really, really big cooking pot and an electric tomato strainer.

Let’s talk about the pot for a minute. For the last two years, I’ve cooked my batches of tomatoes in a 6-quart pot, which only left about two inches of space at the top for the pureé to bubble along for over an hour. The result is tomato splatter ALL OVER THE KITCHEN. This year, I invested in a 16-quart stainless steel pot, which seemed absurdly huge. However, even though my raw tomato puree filled only about a third of the pot, the splatter that used to bloody my walls and stove now stays merrily inside.

As for the strainer. Brad gave me mine, a tremendous gift, after he’d asked what one item I would splurge on for myself. He went all out and bought me this one, an Italian model with good reviews and a sturdy motor that should last for years to come. There are a variety of others out there, as well. Normally, I’m not a fan of one-trick ponies in the kitchen, let along ones that only come out once a year.

But let me tell you: after two years of washing, scoring, blanching, cooling, peeling, slicing, seeding, and pureéing one tomato at a time, for over 100 pounds, the strainer was EVERYTHING. Wash tomato, slice in half if large, put into strainer, receive beautiful pureé in one pot and seeds and skins in another. What used to take two-three hours for a batch now takes 30 minutes. If you can bulk tomatoes, I can’t recommend it enough.

Can What You’ll Actually Eat

The first year, I tried all kinds of things: sweet relish, ketchup, three kinds of salsa, pickled okra, and three kinds of tomato sauce. I used the tomato sauce and most of the other cans sat dormant. The second year, I canned whole tomatoes, diced tomatoes, and three kinds of tomato sauce. I used the tomato sauce and most of the other cans sat dormant.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t try new recipes. But if a bulk-canning weekend is what you’re aiming for, I find that the fewer recipes I’m working with on those two days improves my efficiency tremendously. Starting with the easiest first, a rhythm develops that makes the whole day (or weekend) flow smoothly. This year, with just over 120 pounds of tomatoes, I finished in 14 hours, a record one-day can-a-thon for me, making multiple batches of only three kinds of tomato sauce.

Prep Your Kitchen the Night Before

On Friday night, I pick up my bulk order of tomatoes. I do my grocery-shopping to collect the other ingredients. I schlepped out my canner, cooking pots, scrap bowls, jars, lids, cookbooks, towels, and canning tools. I lay out towels for filling jars and for resting them once they’re canned.

Why stretch this process out Canning day is a lot of work, a lot of standing on your feet in a steamy kitchen over boiling pots and boxes of tomatoes. I hate preceding that with a couple hours of cleaning and organizing and much prefer to wake up to a kitchen that’s ready to go.

Be Prepared for HARD Work

Even with the tremendously-time-saving tools I gained this year, my back still screamed with pain by the time I hit the third box of tomatoes. My arms ached from pressing 120 pounds of tomatoes through a hole the size of a half-dollar in the tomato strainer. Slowly, the tomato boxes drained, and my kitchen table filled with glimmering ruby jars. All told, at the end of the night, there is always a little bit of anti-climactic disappointment at the resulting jars. The volume of 50-some jars is so much smaller than the huge boxes I started with.

I was extremely caught off-guard the first year by the work. Now, I know what’s coming, so I’m better able to prepare for it. I had Brad bring me lunch in the middle of the day so I could keep working efficiently, and I stocked up on snacks in advance to avoid while hangry (a dangerous mix under any circumstance.)  I wear good shoes and comfy clothes, and I stretch and break when I need to. By treating it like an event, planning in advance what I’ll need, and giving myself every opportunity to be successful, the resulting work feels much for acceptable.

Finally, Savor Your Efforts

You could absolutely go and buy tomato sauce of varying kinds at the grocery store. It will probably cost you less (unless you’re lucky enough to be growing your own tomatoes in which case I’m quite envious) and will taste just fine.

Canning your own food is not about beating the best price at the grocery store. The cost we pay for cheap groceries comes in other forms: unsustainable growing, often inferior products, additives and preservatives, low wages, incentive to be wasteful, the list goes on and on.

Each jar of tomato sauce on my shelf is special to me. I’m proud of the work I’ve put in to support a local grower. I like knowing exactly what’s in my sauce. I like always having some on hand (except for those scary days in August when I’m running low on last year’s supply.) I am cautious to never waste a drop, probably because I remember the back pain and sweat and effort that went into producing it.

And simply put, it’s delicious. It does take a bit of time to get used to when you’ve grown up on grocery-store sauces. But now that we have, Brad and I can hardly imagine not having these staples in the pantry year-round. One long weekend of work yields almost 8 weeks of meals. Not to shabby, I think.

The Recipes

Below are the three recipes I canned this year. After two earlier years of trying a variety of different recipes, these are the ones I use the most consistently in my kitchen. They’re extremely versatile, and don’t require a huge number of additional ingredients. I can in batches large enough to fill my water bath canner with jars, usually 8-9 pints at a time. If you’re curious, I canned this year four batches of Basic Tomato Sauce (yielding 29 pints), two batches of Marinara Sauce (yielding 17 pints), and one batch of Pizza Sauce (yielding 15 half pints.)

The recipes below do NOT outline basic canning safety procedures. For those, I highly recommend the two cookbooks I adapted my recipes from: The Food in Jars Cookbook, and the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving. They are tremendous resources. Plus, you’ll likely find other recipes that you love in each and maybe even add them to your canning agenda.

Basic Tomato Sauce
Adapted from Food in Jars

Makes 8-9 pints

20 pounds paste tomatoes (Roma or San Marzano)
2 tsp salt
1 T lemon juice per pint jar

Wash tomatoes. If using a tomato strainer, run tomatoes through strainer to collect all puree in a large pot. If not using a strainer, cut a small “x” in the skin of the non-stem end of the tomato and remove the core of the stem end. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil and blanch a few tomatoes at a time for 1-2 minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon to a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking. Peel off the skins into a scrap bowl, then slice each tomato in half. Use your fingers to remove the seeds into the scrap bowl. Pureé peeled and seeded tomatoes in a food processor or blender and pour in a large pot.

Add salt to the tomato pureé and stir well. Bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium-high and cook for 60-75 minutes without a lid, stirring frequently. The sauce should reduce be almost half.

While the sauce is cooking, prepare your jars and water bath canner.

Once the sauce is nearly done, add 1 tablespoon of lemon juice to each prepared jar. Pour the hot tomato sauce into the jars, leaving 1/2″ of headspace. Wipe the rims and place the flat lids on each jar. Add rings and spin to finger-tight. Process in a boiling water bath for 35 minutes. Note, you will need longer processing time if you live at an altitude higher than 1000 feet. Consult a canning cookbook for recommended additional time.

Remove jars from canner and let sit undisturbed for 12-24 hours. Ensure lids have sealed and store in a cool, dark place.

Marinara Sauce
Adapted from Food in Jars

Makes 8-9 pints

Note: Do not add extra onion or garlic. They are low in acid and could make your final product unsafe for long-term storage.

20 pounds paste tomatoes (Roma or San Marzano)
2 tsp olive oil
1 cup (160 g) finely chopped yellow onion
6 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 tsp salt
1/4 c finely chopped fresh basil
1/4 c finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 1/2 T lemon juice per pint jar

Wash tomatoes. If using a tomato strainer, run tomatoes through strainer to collect all puree in a large bowl or pot (not the pot you’ll use for cooking). If not using a strainer, use the method outlined in the Basic Tomato Sauce recipe to skin, seed, and pureé the tomatoes.

Heat olive oil in your cooking pot over medium heat. Add onions, garlic, and salt and sauté for 5-6 minutes until the onion is translucent. Add tomato pureé, basil, and parsley and stir well. Bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium-high and cook for 70-80 minutes without a lid, stirring frequently. The sauce should reduce be about half.

Once the sauce is nearly done, add 1 1/2 tablespoons of lemon juice to each prepared jar. Pour the hot tomato sauce into the jars, leaving 1/2″ of headspace. Wipe the rims and place the flat lids on each jar. Add rings and spin to finger-tight. Process in a boiling water bath for 35 minutes. Note, you will need longer processing time if you live at an altitude higher than 1000 feet. Consult a canning cookbook for recommended additional time.

Remove jars from canner and let sit undisturbed for 12-24 hours. Ensure lids have sealed and store in a cool, dark place.

Pizza Sauce
Adapted from the Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving

Makes 8-9 pints (I can mine in half-pints, which each make one pizza perfectly)

20 pounds paste tomatoes (Roma or San Marzano)
4 tsp dried oregano
2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 tsp salt
2 tsp garlic powder
1 T lemon juice per half-pint jar (or 2 T per pint jar)

Wash tomatoes. If using a tomato strainer, run tomatoes through strainer to collect all puree in a large pot. If not using a strainer, use the method outlined in the Basic Tomato Sauce recipe to skin, seed, and pureé the tomatoes.

Add oregano, pepper, salt, and garlic powder to the tomato pureé and stir well. Bring to a boil. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium-high and cook for 70-80 minutes without a lid, stirring frequently. The sauce should reduce be about half.

While the sauce is cooking, prepare your jars and water bath canner.

Once the sauce is nearly done, add 1 tablespoon of lemon juice to each prepared half-pint jar. Pour the hot tomato sauce into the jars, leaving 1/2″ of headspace. Wipe the rims and place the flat lids on each jar. Add rings and spin to finger-tight. Process in a boiling water bath for 35 minutes. Note, you will need longer processing time if you live at an altitude higher than 1000 feet. Consult a canning cookbook for recommended additional time.

Remove jars from canner and let sit undisturbed for 12-24 hours. Ensure lids have sealed and store in a cool, dark place.

It only took a few minutes of consulting my favorite cookbooks and cookblogs to see the overwhelming consensus: lemon curd seemed to be square one for entry into the lemon-y baking world.

And to be honest, I had NO idea what lemon curd was. I couldn’t recall tasting it, though in hindsight I now realize that almost every lemon-y dessert I’d had probably used lemon curd as a base. Lemon curd, it turns out, is the happy marriage of lemons, sugar, butter, and eggs. Somewhere between the consistency of a jam and a pudding, curd can be made with any combination of citrus, though lemon seems to be the most popular.

Like most custards, it starts with eggs. This recipe only requires the yolks, but I urge you to re-purpose the whites elsewhere: fluffy omelettes, meringue, angel food cake, no sense in letting a good batch of egg whites go to waste.

Then the lemons: while lemon juice contributes quite a bit of bulk to the curd, the zest is the essential ingredient that takes this curd to a level of insane lemon happiness. I used a lot, a lot, of zest, and I’m so glad I did. It’s truly a magical addition.

To transform this mixture from a yellow slurry into a smooth and elegant topping, it cooks lightly over a bain marie. This can be easily accomplished with any heat-proof bowl and a small pot with a bit of simmering water.

After 10 or 15 minutes, the thin liquid will begin to thicken. My curd was fated to become a cake filling, so I let it thicken quite a lot, but depending on your needs it can be equally delightful a bit thinner. I waited until mine barely dripped off the spoon, and it continued to thicken in the fridge as it cooled.

This recipe makes about a pint of lemon curd, or about two cups. When you’re ready to cool the curd, make sure you press a sheet of plastic wrap over the top so that it doesn’t form a skin or crust as it cools.

Once the curd has cooled and thickened up in the fridge, it can be deliciously used in so many ways. Lemon curd also freezes rather well, so you don’t have to commit to using it all up in one batch. It’s a great way to preserve the bright, fresh spirit of lemons for future use in lemon-filled pastries, lemon cookies, lemon-y whipped cream, lemon-topped-toast…

Or, as a filling for cake. Just a thought. Recipe coming soon, promise!

Lemon Curd
Adapted from Sweetapolita and Alton Brown

Makes about 1 pint

juice and zest of 4 lemons
2 whole eggs
4 egg yolks
1 c granulated sugar
5 T unsalted butter, cut into small, evenly-sized cubes and chilled

Wash all lemons very well and pat dry. Remove zest using a Microplane or grater over a piece of waxed paper (don’t include the white rind, it’s quite bitter!) and set aside.

Add an inch of water to a small pot. Place a medium-sized stainless steel or glass bowl over the pot and ensure that the water won’t touch the bottom. Remove the bowl and heat the pot over medium while you juice the citrus.

Cut each lemon in half and juice, either by squeezing until all juice is removed or using a citrus reamer. Strain out pulp and seeds.

Whisk together eggs, egg yolks, sugar, and lemon juice in the bowl you fit over the pot earlier. Once the water in the pot is simmering, reduce heat to medium-low and place the bowl of egg mixture over the pot. Add the cubes of butter and stir constantly with a wooden spoon until butter is melted and curd has thickened. It is thick enough when it clings to the wooden spoon instead of dripping right off (it will still be liquid, though).

Remove from heat and strain through a mesh strainer into another bowl. Stir in the zest and pour curd into a pint jar. Place a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface to prevent a skin from forming and refrigerate for several hours or overnight.

Is there nothing it can’t improve?

Obviously a delicious dip, for veggies, chicken wings, chips, crackers, french fries, pizza (?)… but ranch is also a tasty mix in for mashed potatoes or even pasta, an excellent salad dressing, and of course, a pizza topping. I have no idea if its popularity extends to other continents, but in the USA, ranch dressing is king.

Now I know that most people probably have a favorite brand (or brands) of ranch. For many of us, this might be the one we had in elementary school but don’t know the name to. There’s a gazillion varieties in the grocery store. I have on occasion, in an effort to expand my ranch dressing horizons, tried branching out and away from the Kraft and Hidden Valley I grew up with. Sometimes, these are successful ventures, and sometimes, they are gross.

This week I ventured VERY far and tried my hand at homemade ranch. I’ve always been curious about doing so, but honestly, it’s difficult to justify buying a quart of buttermilk when all I need is half a cup. This weekend, however, I had the fateful alignment of both buttermilk AND sour cream in my fridge for other projects, and with fresh parsley and chives in season, the time was ripe.

Here’s the thing to know about making homemade versions of your favorite condiments: they don’t have the shelf life of their grocery-store counterparts. Is this moderately inconvenient Perhaps. But it’s nice to know that this dressing isn’t full of extra sugar and salt to preserve the dairy solids. It’s also nice to know that it actually contains dairy solids rather than, well, mystery ingredients I can’t recognize.

Ranch dressing, it turns out, is REALLY easy to make. You can have it mixed up in less than 10 minutes, though it really does need a couple of hours to sit to let the flavors intensify. And you have TOTAL control over these flavors. Like your ranch a little spicy Spike it up with hot sauce or sriracha. Toss in some finely chopped bacon for a bacon ranch (omg yum). Barbecue sauce Yes please. You can cut or increase the salt in this to suit your tastes, add more herbs, reduce or increase the buttermilk if you want a thick dip or a thin slurry of dressing…

Shouldn’t the rest of life be as flexible as this dressing?

Homemade Ranch Dressing
Adapted from Joy the Baker

Makes about 1 1/2 c dressing

1 clove garlic
1/2 tsp coarse sea salt, divided
1/4 c chopped chives
1/4 chopped flat parsley
1/2 c sour cream
1/4 c mayonnaise
3/8 c buttermilk
1/2 tsp black pepper

Crush a clove of garlic with the side of a knife. Sprinkle 1/4 tsp salt on the clove and crush into a paste with a fork. Finely chop parsley and chives. Combine all ingredients in a medium bowl and mix well. Adjust salt and pepper to taste, but be aware that the flavors will intensify after a couple hours and don’t add too much.

Refrigerate for at least two hours before serving. This will be a fairly thick ranch dressing. If a thinner dressing is needed, increase buttermilk to 1/2 cup.

Serve with EVERYTHING. Keeps well for a week or two.

Ginger has never really been something I’ve thought about very much. Occasionally, my dad would add some ground ginger to stir fry, or I’d use some in fall desserts. But the farmers near Durham have been showcasing mounds of baby ginger at their tables for the last few weeks, and my curiosity about this knobby little root grew with each table I passed.

And with fortuitous timing, I came across this recipe for ginger apple chutney. Combined with apples & onions, also plentiful at local markets, this seemed like a perfect opportunity to buy a chunk of ginger. The recipe wasn’t written as one for canning, but I suspected the acid content would be high enough for canning and checked with a deft canning blogger to be sure.

This chutney likes a firm, tart apple. I used some of my last, precious pick-your-own Pink Ladies (sniff, sniff) but this would also work nicely with Fuji’s, Jazz, or Honeycrisp apples. Just make sure you peel them well, you won’t want any apple peelings invading your chutney.

Now how, you might ask, does one use ginger apple chutney Thus far, I’ve only used it for one out-of-this-world meal, which I promise to tell you about in my next post you can find right here! But how else I suspect this is delicious served atop a pork chop, or mixed with cream to create a spicy, flavorful sauce bursting with autumn flavor. I am eager to try it mixed with cream cheese as a dip, or even as a dip all on its own. I’ve used one of my half-pints, and I imagine I’ll use the remaining four before I’ve exhausted the ways I want to eat it.

Ginger Apple Chutney
Adapted from Katie at the Kitchen Door

Make 2-3 pints

NOTE: I’ve tested the pH of this chutney, and it is safe as written for waterbath canning. Avoid the urge to add extra onions, as they are low in acid and may alter the pH.

1 medium onion, diced
3 T minced fresh ginger
8 medium crisp apples, peeled & diced into 1/4″ pieces (Pink Lady, Fuji, or other firm apple)
1/2 c lemon juice
1 tsp canola oil
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 c apple cider
1 c apple cider vinegar

Dice onion, peel & mince ginger, and peel apples. Dice apples into 1/4″ pieces and place them in a separate bowl, sprinkling a bit of the lemon juice over them after adding each diced apple to prevent them from turning brown.

Heat canola oil in a large pot, at least three quarts in size. Add onion & ginger and sauté for about 5 minutes or until onions begin to soften. Add apples, salt, & pepper and cook an additional 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Add apple cider & apple cider vinegar and stir well. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer uncovered for about 35 minutes, stirring occasionally. The liquid should reduce by about 3/4 and the mixture should be thick, not liquidy. Adjust seasoning to taste with additional salt & pepper if desired.

If you are not canning the chutney, store in an airtight container for 1-2 weeks.

For Canning
Fill 4-5 sterilized half-pint jars with chutney. Pound the jars on the counter to remove any air bubbles, and ensure that each jar has 1/2″ head space. Place flat lids on the jars and spin on the rings finger-tight. Process in a water bath canner for 15 minutes. Remove jars from canner and allow them to sit overnight to cool.

Remove rings from jars and lift by the edge of the flat lid to ensure a tight seal. Label jars and store in a cool, dark place.

Hi there.

I don’t want this to be awkward.

But this is my first post in, oh, almost two weeks.

I’d love to say that I’ve been off somewhere exotic, tropical, and completely cut off from the internet to offer an excuse. But the truth is that I’ve been right here in good old North Carolina, I’ve just been working immense amounts of overtime. Which is great! It just means that the few hours I do have to myself, all I really feel like doing is collapsing into bed for a couple chapters of my book before I fall asleep.

I am really looking forward to this three day weekend not to relax, but to get caught up on cooking, editing photos, planting the next phase of my two little gardens, and on general maintenance of my life outside the office.

Some gardening, though, cannot be stopped. The basil continues its seemingly unending life, and while I know that I could just cut down all the plants to nip this in the bud, I’m now sorta curious to see how long they can last. But that decision means that I must find things to do with basil besides making pesto or layering it onto sandwiches. And voila! I stumbled across this recipe and decided immediately to try it out.

The concept is simple, the preparation quick, and the results delicious. Rather than putting the whole batch of butter back in the fridge, I froze it in tiny dollops that I can thaw as needed, because, you know, my freezer wasn’t quite full of pesto cubes. Must. Freeze. More. Basil products. I can grab a dollop here, a dollop there, and can use it on whatever benefits from savory butter.

So, basically everything, then.

I may need to whip up a few more batches to keep up with the basil factory churning in the garden. Maybe if I’m lucky, the basil will take a three-day weekend as well. Hmm.

Don’t be surprised if you get this from me for Christmas.

Garlic Basil Butter
Adapted from Allrecipes

3/4 c fresh basil leaves, packed
2 cloves garlic, smashed
1 stick butter, softened
1/2 tsp lemon juice
1/4 tsp sea salt
1/2 tsp black pepper

Chop basil leaves and garlic in a food processor or blender until finely chopped. Add butter, lemon juice, sea salt, and pepper. Blend until smooth and thoroughly combined.

Line a cookie sheet with waxed paper. Scoop the butter into small dollops (about a teaspoon) onto the waxed paper. Once all butter has been dolloped (teehee) place the cookie sheet in the freezer and freeze for several hours or until the butter has hardened.

Store dollops in an airtight container or a freezer-safe bag and thaw as needed.