How We've Spent Our July Thus Far, or; King Harvest Has Totally Come

We may be running a small operation over here in University Heights, but that doesn't mean ordinary activities and leisure sports don't get put on hold when the fruit ripens ominously on the trees or the herbs and greens spread wide across the garden patch. And as a week of unseasonably cool and damp weather gives way to early morning sunshine and long dry afternoons, it's quickly becoming apparent that we'll need to stagger our attack to keep up with the backyard harvest. If last June, Jane and I put in a large order for pickling cucumbers and spent one long afternoon making a mega-batch, this year we're forced to respond to the natural rhythms of our garden, in which maybe two to three jars worth of pickling cukes are being produced each week, not the twenty jars of last year. And as the plums continue to ripen and clunk to earth, we're quickly learning to divvy up those consigned to snacking and those relegated to further preservation. Needless to say, we're getting lots of use from our canning and drying equipment.

Our Weeping Santa Rosa plum tree has proven a remarkable provider - the attractive little green branches and leaves have been ornamented with beautiful dark-purple fruit globes for weeks now. We know they're ready when they fall heavily to the grass below, and I've learned to check every few hours and scoop up the fruit before less desirables discover them (birds, squirrels, neighborhood kids). With far more available than we'd be capable of eating in one sitting, and fruit fries becoming ever more bold (note - a tall glass with a tiny splash of beer or a rotting piece of fruit in the bottom, and plastic wrap rubber-banded across the top of the glass studded with a few tiny holes, will take care of the little bastards), I decided to look into some kind of canning recipe more involved than simply dumping sliced plums and sugar onto the stove top.

What I luckily found was Pam Corbin's simple recipe for spiced brandy plums, calling merely for honey, orange zest, 7 tablespoons of brandy, cinnamon sticks and anise pods. I pulled out my bottle of Macieira Royal Brandy, tasted it to make sure it passed the quality test, and allowed Jane to set about creating a brandy syrup with the honey, some water, the zest and the brandy. The plums were sliced in half, packed inside our canning jars, and the cinnamon sticks and star anise crammed down alongside the fruit.

We then poured the hot brandy syrup up to the rim of the jars. And what a wonderful aroma of hot fruit, brandy, cinnamon and orange filled the kitchen!

All the while, I was busy setting about prepping my end of the bargain - pickling cucumbers from the garden. We would only have enough for two jars this time around, but the amount of effort needed to organize the vinegar, mustard seeds, dill, garlic and hot peppers was still notable.

However, the big difference this time was our ability to seal an entire batch in one go, with the plums nestled alongside the cucumbers, and with the fruit removed slightly before the pickles. We also discovered that our totally awesome stove did the job of boiling a huge amount of water in much less time than before, meaning our job was quicker and less exhaustively warm (and that the pickles look much crisper and light-green). Within fifteen minutes, two jars of soon-to-be-pickles and soon-to-be spiced brandy plums sat on the kitchen counter.

................................................................................................................................................................

But within the week, our garden had announced plans of its own. Our small patch of oregano had spread wide and fast, while two distinct clumps of parsley, both curly and flat-leaf, were announcing their presence. Time to pick and time to dry.

We had enough herbs picked to fill four trays on the food dehydrator, even though the garden itself looked like we'd barely made a dent. Drying oregano and parsley was a bit time consuming, partly due to the rather low temperature required (95 degrees). We set up the equipment in the late afternoon and let it hum away all night, until around noon the following day, when we decided it was approaching an acceptable level of bone-dryness.

But in the meantime, there was more to be done. Another weekend, another crop of pickling cucumbers daring to overtake the garden. As the herbs dried away, we supplemented the garden pickles with a few cukes from our CSA. May I express a little bit of green-thumb pride in the fact that our pickling cukes were far superior to the supplementary ones? The image below shows the CSA pickles on top, ours along the bottom.

However, we were lucky enough to meet up with head honcho Farmer Joe (it's what he calls himself) at our JR Organics CSA stand, where he periodically stops by to chat up the Hillcrest Farmer's Market shoppers, which very often include local chefs and restaurateurs. Hearing that Jane planned on pickling today, he tossed in for free a tall stalk of fresh flowered dill, and recommended adding the flowers to the very top of our jars. They were lovely, and we gladly accepted this free gift. The benefits of knowing the man who grows your food!

But as I set about once again dicing the cukes and peeling the garlic, Jane set about yet another concurrent project. We had a large amount of rhubarb left over from a 4th of July pie she had made and brought to Twentynine Palms, and a glance through our preserving cookbooks turned up a recipe for Sweet Pickled Damson Plums, easily modified to incorporate rhubarb. A little cider vinegar, a cinnamon stick, allspice berries and orange zest were brought to a boil, while sugar and chunks of rhubarb were added and softened. The rhubarb was placed inside the jars....

....and the hot spiced vinegar was poured over the top. We boiled both the four jars of pickles and the three smaller jars of sweet pickled rhubarb for fifteen minutes, and then removed them and waited for the seal.

The herbs at this point were also ready, so I removed them from the dehydrator and placed them into individual plastic baggies, ready for cooking use.....

.......and within minutes, all seven jars had sealed, thus safely preserving our pickles and the rhubarb for the 8 weeks or so required before being suitable to sample. As we finished, Jane looked at me somewhat quizzically, asking what exactly we would be using this pickled rhubarb for. The recipe noted that they made a "lovely addition to any buffet table," which sounded nice but not very likely. But I did some brief searches around other preserving sources, and found many pickled rhubarb recipes or ideas, from served alongside poultry and as a glaze for meats, as an excellent accompaniment to grilled asparagus (definitely need to try that one out), as a tasty salad ingredient, and a boon to any cheese, dried meat or pate plate. In fact, that very night at local fave The Linkery, we were excited to find a tiny dish of candied rhubarb accompanying our Point Reyes Blue Cheese board (alongside white peaches and house made spent-grain sourdough crostini). Ideas, ideas, ideas.

..................................................................................................................................................

So, as the summer slowly glides on, bringing with it more sunshine and ever-warmer evenings, no doubt our fruit trees and garden will continue offering up handfuls or basketfuls of fresh produce each week, forcing us to stay on our toes and always leaving time in the day for an emergency canning operation. It's endlessly satisfying, it's a lot fun, and they will make excellent presents as the seasons change.