Image via Wikipedia
By ANA CAMPOY
Pots are boiling on every burner and the kitchen counters are covered with a jumble of bowls, measuring cups and jars. Steam fills the house with the scent of vinegar and caramelizing sugar.
We're canning.
This two-century-old technique of preserving food—or "putting up," in canning-speak—is making a big comeback.
The worst recession in decades and a trend toward healthier eating are inspiring many Americans to grow their own food. Now the harvest season is turning many of these gardeners into canners looking to stretch the bounty of the garden into the winter.
Canning statistics are hard to come by, but Elizabeth Andress, project director of the National Center for Home Food Preservation, a government-funded program that advises consumers on how to safely preserve food, says requests for canning classes are flooding in at a rate not seen in many years.
Hundreds of cooks gathered at the end of August in simultaneous countrywide canning fests organized by Canning Across America, a new Web site for canning devotees (www.canningacrossamerica.com). At Jarden Corp.'s Jarden Home Brands—the maker of Kerr and Ball brand jars—sales of canning equipment are up 30% this year through mid-September, over the same period in 2008. And canning classes from Brooklyn, N.Y., to Boise, Idaho, report seeing skyrocketing enrollments this year.
Canning has been around since the dawn of the 19th century, when, at Napoleon's behest, a Frenchman developed a method of sealing food in bottles to prevent spoilage on long military campaigns. The process was later adapted to factory-sealed metal cans, but at home, "canning" is still practiced in thick glass jars.
Lately, canning has found new appeal as a healthier alternative to the chemicals and preservatives found in many prepared foods, says Brenda Schmidt, brand manager at Jarden. By preserving their own fruits and vegetables, people can also customize the amount of sugar or salt used. Canned foods will keep for varying lengths of time, depending on the recipe, but the National Center for Home Food Preservation says that you should can only what you plan to eat within a year.
In the weak economy, others are turning to it as a money saver. A few seeds planted in the spring can yield enough canned produce to last a year. But Ms. Andress, of the canning education program, warns that canning food isn't always cheaper than buying it from the grocery store.
I decided to take a class to find out for myself. I found a teacher through Slow Food Dallas, a chapter of an international organization that promotes traditional ingredients and food. I signed up for a private class with one other student, then bought supplies at my local farmer's market in Dallas, where I paid $8 for four pounds of fresh, firm cucumbers grown in Lipan, Texas, west of Fort Worth.
I bought vinegar, pickling salt, dill seeds and peppercorns at the supermarket and canning jars at the hardware store—all for $25.42. The canning teacher brought a big pot with a rack, which would have set me back another $25. My classmate showed up with $10 worth of peaches, some lemons and a bag of sugar. We were all set for our canning initiation.
I quickly discovered that preserving requires more rigor than my usual haphazard cooking method of tossing vegetables around in a sauté pan.
Our teacher devised an assembly line to process our two products, pickles and peach jam, to make the most of our limited counter space.
Strict Procedures
Canners must follow strict procedures, sticking to food safety guidelines issued by the U.S. Agriculture Department. The main threat is a microorganism called Clostridium botulinum, found on the surface of most produce. In a low-acid environment with no air, such as a food-filled jar, these bacteria can produce toxins that cause botulism, a deadly form of food poisoning.
One way to prevent that is by using a pressure cooker to heat food to a high temperature. The other is by adding vinegar or lemon juice to the food during canning. We used the latter technique, stuffing our fruit and vegetables into jars and then boiling them in a big pot of water.
First we washed our containers—pint and half-pint Ball brand glass jars, which have been made since 1884—in the dishwasher. Then we made the brine—a mixture of salt, water and vinegar for the pickles—and heated it on the stove. The peaches were blanched and peeled.
At my station, I chopped a mound of cucumbers as best I could. I had already cut my finger by the second or third cucumber, and the slices ranged from fat to skinny. Although their irregularity was not intentional, I liked to think it gave them an artisanal quality.
Meanwhile, my classmate stirred a mixture of sugar and peaches over the stove. Recent heavy rains had forced the grower to pull them early from the tree, so they were as hard as tennis balls and refused to disintegrate. Instead of jam, we decided, we would make chunky peach preserves.
The next stop was the packing station. We squeezed as many cucumbers as we could into the jars, which were piping hot from the dishwasher. (Heating the jars prevents them from shattering when you pour in hot brine and preserves.)
Once the jars were full, we placed round metallic lids on them and held them in place with a separate ring that was screwed on over them. Then we submerged the jars in boiling water in order to destroy any microorganisms and remove oxygen. Slowly, the counter filled with jars that emitted a satisfying popping sound as the lids sealed, ensuring the food will keep without spoiling.
The Verdict: Delicious
Before the last batch was done, we were spooning peach preserves onto pieces of a baguette. The verdict: delicious, sweet, tangy and rich, despite the unripe peaches. The dill pickles had a sharp, full flavor that made store-bought versions seem overly sweet and dull.
In about four hours we produced eight one-pint jars of pickles at a cost of $2.14 each, and seven $2.60 half-pint jars of preserves. Those figures do not include our teacher's $100 fee nor the energy, water and labor we expended, but they do include all our ingredients and the jars. That's less than the $2.43 I paid for dill pickles at the supermarket, and the $3.12 I paid for store-bought preserves.
Although home-canned goods are not exactly a bargain, their taste is dramatically better and, in my view, well worth the labor. I'm not motivated enough to tackle a canning session on my own, but I'm definitely interested in team canning, which was as much fun as a dinner party and more productive.
My next canning project is already in the works. I have a bountiful crop of gypsy peppers and a good recipe for pickled peppers. All I need now are a few fellow canners to put them up.
No comments:
Post a Comment