Consider the transient character of the food preserver’s pantry, how it captures a sense of the seasons as they unfold.
In early spring, the shelves are as barren as a late-winter countryside. But it’s an emptiness that holds as much promise as the swelling buds of the apple tree — a harbinger of the fresh harvests soon to arrive with the summer bounty.
By October, the roar of the farmer’s combine has faded. Kitchen rhythms have slowed from the frenetic beat of high summer, and once again, a canner’s pantry imitates nature as the vivid hues of an autumn landscape are conserved in echelons of glass.
We continue to squirrel away the remnants of late-season offerings, but the pace is almost leisurely. My passion to cram lovely pieces of fruit and vegetables into little glass jars has abated. More or less.
I still get misty-eyed around a bushel of heritage apples, and the remaining tomatoes and peppers in our garden with enough gumption to fully ripen will not be ignored.
But as the late October frost settles over the jack-o-lantern, we food preservers are definitely into our bell lap. And by the time the first dusting of snow reaches the Cascades, the pantry will be primed to surrender its bounty through the cold, dark months that lie ahead.
One of your last jobs for the year will be to evaluate your storage situation.
An old-fashioned pantry is the ideal place to store your home-canned foods, because it’s typically cool, dark and dry.
With that said, you may have to settle for any space that meets those ideals, avoiding basements and garages if they become damp, or if temperatures drop dramatically.
Make sure all your jars are dated and labeled with a brief content description if possible.
I even try to detail each one with the specific variety of fruit used in the preserve.
And when I’m attempting an extra level of charm when sharing my preserves, I even like to make note of where that particular batch of Marionberries or apricots were obtained (“Picked along the banks of the Sandy River, Mollala, Oregon, Summer of 2007”).
People love that.
But if you’ve still got enough oomph to preserve, I’m all for it. Consider my classic fruit butters. There’s no butter in these butters, of course. But there is plenty of fruit, and a whole lot of flavor.
So during the Northwest apple and pear harvests consider putting up a few batches of this old-fashioned treat as well.
I used to steer clear of this wonderful autumn treat because of the mess that resulted from the lava-like glops of thick fruit puree erupting from the pot during cooking.
There was also a certain amount of risk involved to any bare skin in the path of this flying fruit, since fruit butter being prepared in a pot on the stovetop has to be stirred almost constantly to keep it from sticking and scorching.
Several years ago, however, I learned from a veteran preserver that primo butters can be created in the oven, or even on the kitchen counter if you possess either an old-fashioned or retro-new-fangled electric roaster.
The risks associated with the stovetop method are reduced dramatically; plus, during the process, your house will smell more delicious than any apple-scented candle ever could.
For the richest-tasting preserve, consider using a blend of several apple varieties: at least one sweet variety and one tart variety, plus whatever other intriguing flavors you can find.
Meanwhile, be generous with the harvest you have captured so far. You’ll make friends for life!
Oven-roasted apple or pear butter
8pounds apples, quartered and cored (using more than one variety will produce a more interesting butter)
3cups apple cider
1/2cup cider vinegar
21/2cups firmly packed brown sugar
21/2cups granulated sugar
2teaspoons ground cinnamon
3/4teaspoon ground cloves
3/4teaspoon grated nutmeg
Place the apples in a large pot. Add the apple cider and cider vinegar, cover, and cook slowly over medium heat until the apples are very soft.
Remove the pot from the burner and let the apples cool enough so they can be handled comfortably.
To remove the skins, press the fruit through a colander, food mill or strainer. Stir in the brown sugar, granulated sugar, cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg, then scrape the mixture into an oven-proof, non-aluminum roasting pan with sides deep enough to accommodate the mixture.
If you don’t have a pan that is large enough, you could use two smaller ones, dividing the apple mixture evenly between them.
Place the pan in a preheated 350 degree oven. Once the mixture begins to bubble, reduce the temperature to 250 degrees and bake for about 5 hours (less if you’re using 2 pans), or until the mixture is thick enough that it mounds slightly on a spoon.
To prevent a caramelized skin from forming on the surface and to promote even cooking, stir the mixture every 45 to 60 minutes.
To store at room temperature: Toward the end of the apple butter cooking time, wash 9 pint-size jars or a combination of half-pints and pints of that equivalent. Prepare lids as manufacturer directs.
Ladle the hot butter into one hot jar at a time, leaving 1/4-inch head space. Wipe jar rim with a clean, damp cloth. Attch lid. Fill and close remaining jars.
Process pints and half-pints in a boiling water canner for 10 minutes (at 1,000 to 6,000 feet, process for 15 minutes; above 6,000 feet, for 15 minutes).
To store in the refrigerator: Ladle the apple butter into clean containers, attach lids, let cool on counter, then refrigerate for up to 12 months or longer. (Length of storage varies because of the high sugar content; it’s only a quality issue, not a food safety issue.)
For pear butter: Substitute 8 pounds of pears for the apples. Reduce the apple cider to 2 cups, and the cider vinegar to 1/4 cup. If desired, add 1 teaspoon grated orange rind and 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg.
Makes 8 to 9 pints.
Jan Roberts-Dominguez is a Corvallis food writer, cookbook author and artist. Readers can contact her by e-mail at janrd@proaxis.com.
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