Setting

  • The Markets: Any of the farmers markets in Chicago that I work throughout the week.
  • The Orchard (aka the Farm): 81 acres in Southwest Michigan, about 2.5 hours from Chicago.

 

Cast of characters

  • Peter: My boss and chief fruit slinger.
  • Lupe: Farm foreman. Lives at the orchard and directs the day-to-day agricultural labor.
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    2009 Categories

    Entries in strawberries (9)

    Thursday
    24Sep2009

    Odds and ends and apples

    I cut into that Melrouge this afternoon. It was crunchy and lightly sweet, but overall a little insipid.

    If you don't follow this blog on Twitter or Facebook — which, trust me, is a position I can totally respect — then you have missed the link to this Washington Post story about the Red Delicious — an apple that has been selected for the visual appeal of redder and redder skin, arguably at the expense of taste.

    The sacrifice of taste in favor of appearance and storage ability mirrors what's happened with commercially grown strawberries, which David Karp writes about in this New York Times piece.

    With both apples and strawberries, there has been some push-back in the other direction. But in broad strokes, it's still a tug-of-war, with industrial agriculture and flavor pitched on opposites sides of the line.

    * * * 

    It would be nice if I could do thoughtful tasting notes and photos of all the apples I come across. I can't, though I'm going to be better about it this year.

    Even if I did do all the apples I came across, there would be hundreds more I didn't come across.

    That's why you should add Adam's Apples to your RSS feed.

    * * * 

    If you're looking for what might be the Yelp of apples, check out Orange Pippin, also linked last year but repeated now for those just joining the blog already in progress. (Hat tip to Matt.) There are gaps, but overall it's a fascinating database.

    * * * 

    There is an orchard in Upstate New York run by the USDA. It harbors 2,500 varieties. Michael Pollan wrote about it in The Botany of Desire.

    An artist from Los Angeles has launched a Kickstarter project to visit the orchard and sculpt some of the rare apples found there. 

    Honestly, it's worth clicking through just for the gorgeous video alone.

    I've been emailing back and forth with Jessica for a few weeks now. She's the real deal.

    I'm looking forward to seeing what she does.

    Friday
    10Jul2009

    Jamlady, call me

    I've been immersed in jam cookbooks lately. Here are brief reviews of three.

    Blue Ribbon Preserves

    You can see where Blue Ribbon Preserves would be a conceit. As in, here is how to make preserves that are worthy of a blue ribbon, although, of course, you will not actually be entering them in a jam competition to win a blue ribbon.

    There could be a cookbook out there with that conceit. But this is not it. This book is actually a guide on how to make jams that will — when you actually enter a jam competition — win a blue ribbon. There are long passages on exhibition rules, tips on how to label your jars, and an exploration of the Danish and American systems of scoring.

    But there are also many, many good recipes and a lot of solid information on how to improve your jams. I can recommend this cookbook as a good supplement to the standby, the Ball Blue Book of Preserving.

    Also, while author Linda J. Amendt is passionate about her jams and preserves, she does not appear to be insane. You will see why this is important in a moment.

    The Jamlady Cookbook

    Jamlady is crazy. How do we know that Jamlady is crazy? Jamlady refers to herself in the third person throughout The Jamlady Cookbook. Jamlady's full name is Beverly Ellen Schoonmaker Alfeld. So you can see why she does not refer to herself as Beverly Ellen Schoonmaker Alfeld in each recipe. But still.

    Here are but a few examples of what I am talking about. (Notice my deft use of the first person.)

    Jamlady has included this rhubarb-nutmeg recipe to illustrate rhubarb jam made with powdered pectin.

    and

    Jamlady has not fully investigated chestnut jams or chestnuts preserved in alcohol, as she cannot can chestnut jam in a RWB so that it can be sold at market and she has no liquor license to sell alcoholic products at market.

    An RWB, for those of you unfamiliar with Jamlady's terminology, is a rolling water bath. It is what many of us would call boiling water. And again: Jamlady, for those of you unfamiliar with Jamlady's terminology, is Beverly Ellen Schoonmaker Alfeld.

    Earlier, I stated that Jamlady is crazy. I need to revisit that. She may not be — she is probably not! — crazy. She's probably a very nice lady. (Jamlady, call me.) This book has so much good information and so many interesting recipes that I almost want to recommend it.

    But it is extremely disconcerting to read a recipe — let alone an entire book — in which the writer refers to herself in the third person.

    It's enough to make you lose your mind.

    Take it from Fruit Slinger.

    Mes Confitures

    Though ordinarily I might hesitate to recommend a cookbook that I cannot pronounce, I enthusiastically recommend Christine Ferber's Mes Confitures. This is the book from which the strawberry-raspberry preserves with balsamic vinegar and black pepper were taken, and it's the book that inspired the black raspberry and wild strawberry with chocolate preserves that I made today.

    This is probably not the first jam cookbook that you want to own, but it is a devastatingly beautiful and inspirational work.

    If you're getting at all serious about jam-making or want something to which to aspire, you want this book on your shelf.

    * * *

    This isn't really the sort of blog where I talk about the restaurants I go to.

    However.

    The other night my friend Sarah was in town. For dinner, we went to Carnivale.

    The food was fantastic. The hospitality was unbeatable. It's been a long time since I'd eaten that well.

    Beyond the commitment to sustainability and locally sourced ingredients, what struck me in nearly everything we ate was the olive oil.

    It brought to mind standing at a public telephone in Seville, Spain. I was there with my mom. A few years before, I had spent my junior year in college there.

    Being there in college changed me. One of the ways in which it changed me was introducing me to olive oil.

    Now, a few years had gone by and I had brought my mom there.

    It was raining a lot and my mom and I weren't seeing much of the city, unfortunately. I was at the public telephone because I was dialing directory assistance. I asked for the number of an olive oil factory in Baena, a town about 200km away. That's where my favorite olive oil was made. The name of the company was Nuñez de Prado. I got the phone number and when I was connected, I asked if they gave tours. Not really, I was told, but I was welcome to visit.

    My mom and I showed up. We got a tour from Francisco Nuñez de Prado. It was great. 

    Somewhere in a photo album in a closet is a photograph of me standing in front of a stark white wall with the Nuñez de Prado sign over my shoulder. I'm grinning like an idiot.

    It's the same look I had at Carnivale.

    * * *

    It is regrettably churlish to mention that you can still contribute to this blog's Kickstarter project — a Kickstarter project that is to my genuine surprise and utter delight overfunded. But there are only a few days left and so I am mentioning it one last time. What does an overfunded fruit blogger spend the money on? The same camera, actually. A macro lens. A flash.

    Really, at this point, I'm not asking for money. But I'm telling you that if you wanted to contribute, there are only a few days left.

    Friday
    03Jul2009

    Strawberry-raspberry etc. preserves

    The other day after I made strawberry-rhubarb preserves, I canned whole strawberries.

    Yesterday, I made strawberry preserves. I also made strawberry-raspberry preserves with balsamic vinegar and black pepper. This is ridiculous, but: It was the first time I've combined fruits in a preserve. And the first time I'd added other flavors and spices.

    As you can see, it's really off the hook around here.

    At any rate, normally I'd wait until late autumn before I tried the strawberry-raspberry preserves with balsamic vinegar and black pepper. But this morning I found that a jar hadn't sealed properly. It's not a big deal. It happens occasionally, though I think I went the whole season without it happening last year.

    I could have reprocessed the jar and sealed it. If it were anything but the S-RPWBVABP, probably I would have just done that.

    But I didn't.

    I buttered my cast-iron frying pan and toasted some bread in it. The toasted bread was drizzled with olive oil. Over this went a few dollops of strawberry-raspberry preserves with balsamic vinegar and black pepper.

    The ruby-red berries sat on a golden sheen of olive oil.

    So far this season, I'm up to eight half-pint jars of preserves and three pint jars of whole berries. After breakfast, I labeled the jars.

    I like the strawberry-raspberry preserves with balsamic vinegar and black pepper.

    But if the name were any longer I'd have to write "continued on next jar."

    * * *

    It would make me the happiest fruit blogger in the world if Fruit Slinger inspired someone to make and can preserves for the first time.

    You do need mason jars with sealable lids . You don't need a lot of special equipment. Yes, there are things you can buy that will make your life easier. But if you have the jars and a few pots — one of them large enough to hold the mason jars with an inch or so of boiling water above it — then you are ready to go.

    You'll need a way to lift the hot jars in and out of the water, too, so a jar-grabber is a good idea. But I managed without one for a while. So it can be done.

    Beyond that, you'll need a recipe. The Ball book is a good place to start. It gives you step-by-step instructions.

    My goal is to make you so sick and tired of hearing me talk about canning that you do it yourself in a desperate attempt to shut me up.

    I mean, it won't work. But I'm just saying.

    Wednesday
    01Jul2009

    "I'll let you have the final word on that."

    "What are we going to do with all these raspberries?" Peter surveyed the table — so many unsold baskets on yet another gray, rainy market day.

    "Well, I can pay you for some of them," I offered.

    What was this new thing I had with paying for fruit? I had already bought another $10 worth of strawberries off another stand today.

    This was becoming a bad habit.

    Peter looked at me. "I think we're beyond where you need to pay for fruit."

    He caught me a little off guard. "Well, I just meant it's a lot of berries and ..."

    "We are beyond you paying me for fruit," he said, matter-of-factly.

    "I'll let you have the final word on that, Peter."

    I took home three quarts of strawberries, two pints of blueberries, two pints of raspberries and two pints of cherries. I try to be conscientious when I take fruit — if something's left over or abundant, that's one thing. If my taking it deprives the farm of a revenue opportunity, that's another. 

    Today, I deprived the farm of a few small revenue opportunities.

    Oh, maybe yesterday, too: I took home three baskets of fraises des bois.

    But Peter told me to take those home. In fact, it was the first thing he said to me Saturday morning, when we threw open the back of the truck and found the flats of wild strawberries stacked on the edge.

    "Don't you think you should take some of these home and make jam out of them?"

    Yes, Peter. In fact, I do think that.

    Yes, I do.

    Tuesday
    30Jun2009

    Strawberry-rhubarb preserves

    I already had the rhubarb. I had to buy the berries.

    I showed up at the market Sunday to meet the guy coming in from Michigan with more fruit. And I helped him unload blueberries. And I helped him unload raspberries. And I helped him unload fraises des bois.

    But there were no strawberries.

    It's coming to the end of the season, but we were hoping to have more.

    Specifically, I was hoping to have more. For me. To turn into jam on my day off. I had visions of strawberry-rhubarb preserves. But I needed the strawberries.

    So I walked over to another stand and paid for fruit.

    They were gorgeous berries.

    Now all I needed was a recipe.

    I settled on honey-sweetened strawberry-rhubarb preserves, from Preserving Summer's Bounty.

    [And when I say I settled on it, I'm leaving out a whole uninteresting block of text wherein I describe how I twittered about looking for a recipe, and then got a helpful response from @floriole, but then discovered that the book she recommended — Mes Confitures: The Jams and Jellies of Christine Ferber  — was not available at the library, so I put it on hold for later. And then I wrote a friend about which recipe I should use — because he's at home with a baby and thus has plenty of time to just research my fruit queries — and exchanged emails with him about it. Did I say I was leaving this all out? I lied.]

    I'll warn you: This is going to take all day. Not all day in the slaving-constantly-over-a-hot-stove sort of way, but all day in the start-at-9am-and-finish-by-3pm sort of way — mostly because you have to let the berries and the honey sit together for a while, to draw out the juices.

    Ingredients:

    • 1 1/3 cup honey
    • 4 cups of washed, stemmed and thickly sliced strawberries
    • 4 cups of washed, diced and unpeeled rhubarb
    • 3 Tablespoons of lemon juice

    Directions:

    Drizzle 1/3 cup of the honey over the berries and let stand in a cool place for three to four hours.

    Combine the strawberries, their juice, the rhubarb, the lemon juice and the remaining honey in a medium enamel of stainless steel saucepan. (Using aluminum for this may give a metallic taste to the finished product.)

    Bring slowly to a boil, stirring occasionally.

    [Instant message exchange during the writing of this post: "How long does it take you to write a blog entry?" "Between 5 minutes and forever. This one is tending toward the latter."]

    Cook at a low boil for 15 to 20 minutes, until the syrup has thickened. Stir frequently to prevent sticking.

    Remove from the heat and skim off the foam. (I always set the foam aside, refrigerate it, and stir it into yogurt.)

    To can:

    Pour into hot, scalded half-pint jars, leaving 1/4-inch of headspace. Seal and process for 10 minutes in a boiling-water bath.

    * * *

    With this recipe, I filled four half-pint jars, with a few tablespoons left over.

    With the jars boiling away, I reached into the drawer for a spoon.

    The soft-pink preserves are lightly sweet and tangy.