When you make jam or jelly, you need something to make it jell. Most folks use commercial pectin–a product extracted from fruit–usually powdered (although liquid pectin is available). But. BUT.

What if it was doomsday and there was no pectin in the stores? WHAT WOULD WE DO?????

The trick of making your own pectin was common knowledge in the olden days. Now, practically no one even knows it’s possible. The Damsel just learned it’s actually not that hard, especially if you have one of these trees:

If you have an apple tree you need to thin, (like described in this thinning apples post) the sacrificial baby apples can be used to make pectin. Their short lives were not in vain!

You can also use crab apples…apparently they make excellent pectin, and no one feels too sad about not getting to eat them. People have even used apple peelings.

Take your little apples, wash them, cut them in half if they are on the big side, and throw them whole into a pot.

Add water to the pot until the apples are nearly covered. Cook on medium heat for a long time. At least an hour, until the apples look sort of like bizarre lumpy applesauce, full of stems and skins and so on. Stuff no self respecting applesauce would normally have.

Stretch some cheesecloth (or a mesh strainer) over a container and let the cooked apples drip a couple of hours, or overnight. You could stir them lightly to get a few more drops, but don’t press them. That will make the pectin cloudy. It won’t hurt its jelling ability but cloudy pectin? Seriously?

After you’ve waited all you’re going to wait on the dripping, pour the liquid off into a container. You can use it right now to make jam or jelly, or it can sit in the fridge a couple of weeks till you’re ready.  Some people cook up enough to make it worth processing it in a canner. (email mhovley at gmail dot com for instructions)

Here’s how to test if your pectin is the right strength: Pour a little rubbing alcohol into a dish. Pour in a teaspoon or so of pectin. Wait one minute. Scoop the pectin with a fork.

The pectin will cling to the fork in a glob if it is “strong” enough. If it runs off the tines of the fork, put it in a pan and boil it till it reduces, let cool, and repeat the rubbing alcohol test. (The pectin needs to be cool.)

And for heaven’s sake, don’t taste the “test.” It’s rubbing alcohol, people! Does the Damsel have to tell you everything?

Now, how do you use the stuff? Because every batch of pectin is a little different, and different kinds of fruit jell better, there’s no hard and fast rule. But here’s a place to start–mix 1/4 to 1/3 cup of pectin per cup of crushed fruit (or juice, if you’re making jelly). Then stir in sugar equal to the amount of pectin+fruit. Boil until it foams. Skim that stuff off, but don’t fuss.

Jam doesn’t set until it’s cool, so it’s hard to tell if things are okay. If you’d rather not wait around, scoop a little out in a spoon and hold an ice cube on its back. (Normally the Damsel doesn’t advise holding an ice cube on someone’s back. This is mean. Spoons don’t care though.)

If it’s still runny, add more sugar and pectin and reboil. Some people say adding lemon juice also helps pectin to work better. And, there’s always this rescue runny jam post, for any kind of runny jam, whether made with commercial pectin or homemade.

Now celebrate! Making your own pectin is really kickin’ it old school.

The Damsel would like to gently insist that you flash freeze your raspberry treasure. Do it this way:

1. Wash the berries. This means put them into a strainer and rinse well with cold water.

2. Let them drain a bit.

3. Spread them out in a single layer on a cookie sheet. Careful! Raspberries are very fragile!

4. Put the cookie sheet, uncovered, into the freezer. Have a lie-down or clean a bathroom. Your choice.

5. When the raspberries are hard-frozen, sweep them off the cookie sheet into ziplock bags or freezer containers. You may need to nudge them off the cookie sheet with a pancake turner or something. Put the bags or containers into the freezer until you want to eat them.

Before the Damsel learned about flash freezing, she’d just put the freshly washed berries directly into a ziplock and froze them that way. But if she wanted to use a recipe that required say, one cup of raspberries, she’d quietly cry for a minute or two, because the frozen raspberries would have become a single, solid frozen block. She’d have to thaw the whole thing or attempt to ice-pick the thing into pieces. Sometimes she just couldn’t face it.

But because you know better and flash froze them, they will stay individual. You’ll be able to take out just what you need, without having to face a discouraging frozen mass. You can use them all year long for smoothies, desserts, or just popping into your mouth.

You can use this method for practically anything little you want to freeze. This is the Damsel’s wish.

This is a funny picture, because it looks like the Damsel is tightly clutching a bunch of grapes, about to yank them off the vine. That would be a silly way to pick grapes because of smashage and droppage. Rather, she is gently holding the bunch while clipping the stem with nippers.

The Damsel likes picking grapes because it brings back warm memories of childhood, and plus, being outside on a sunny autumn day is tops. Her most favorite way to pick grapes is to go tandem with the Knight. He holds up the vines while she picks. Teamwork!

Now then. Making the stuff into juice is simple as kindergarten. There are other methods, such as stomping with bare feet, but the Damsel really, really likes this way:

This gadget is a steam juicer. The Damsel highly recommends its addition to your arsenal. Grape juice is only the beginning of what it can do, and it makes doing grape juice easy-peasy.

Simply dump the freshly picked grapes–stems and all–into the juicer’s insert, the one with holes in it. It sort of looks like a big colander. Rinse, but don’t stress. Everything is going to get very hot and sterile soon. The Damsel’s main goal is to rinse off spiders.

Now you just put the juicer together. You fill the bottom pan with water and stack the rest on top, turn on the heat, and wait. As you can see the Damsel’s juicer (called “the still”, lol) is way old. It was old when the Damsel was a kid, and it still works fine. After about two hours, you press open the clamp on the hose and juice flows out. You can drain the juice into a pitcher, or straight into a canning jar as you see here. (The Damsel has the canning jar set inside a pot, sitting on a chair, just in case it spills. She has learned through sad experience that grape juice isn’t nice to light-colored grout)

The juice is boiling hot so be careful. If you drain it straight into a canning jar, put the lid on straight away, and it will probably seal itself because of the heat. Technically you should still process the bottles in a waterbath canner for 30 minutes. A juicer-full of grapes will yield about 4 quarts of juice.

Grape juice is the easiest canning project. No peeling, slicing, blanching, or standing for hours hunched over a sink. And with a steam juicer, your feet stay non purple. Win-win.

The only thing the Damsel likes about beets is that they are sort of purple. Even so, she pickles the little devils for the rest of the weirdos in the family.

It’s pretty easy. Starting from scratch, by which she means beets that have been freshly pulled out of the garden, you wash them, hack off the tops leaving a couple of inches, and leave the root intact. If the beets are young, save the greens for eating…just steam them like spinach. The Damsel likes to use little beets–golf ball size or so–but you can cut large ones into quarters if you need to. (If you use canned beets, skip to the part about making a vinegar-spice mixture)

Put the beets in a pot with a bunch of water. Pour in a glug of vinegar (it’s said it preserves their color) and cook for about 30 minutes, until fork tender.

Now trim off both the stem end and root end, and sort of rub the thing between your fingers under running water. The skin should slip off. Purple beet liquid will abound. Don’t get it on your new shirt from American Eagle. People actually use beet as a natural dye, so it’s tricky to get out. (Bleach works.)

For about 3 quarts of beets, measure 3 1/2 cups of vinegar into a pot. (Same pot as before if you want–just rinse it out) You can half or double the recipe if you need. And no, it’s not necessary to have tortilla strips right there handy but sometimes it helps.

Throw in two cinnamon sticks, feeling fancy and gourmet as you do so.

And a tablespoon of whole allspice. The Damsel has used powdered allspice, but the fancy-gourmet feeling was significantly less. Now 2 cups sugar, 2 teaspoons salt, 1 1/2 cups water and oh, yeah,  the beets. Let simmer for 5 minutes or so.

Scoop the beets into a container such as a canning jar. If you have large pieces, put them in first, then fill in with smaller ones, so more will fit.

Pour in the vinegar-spice cooking liquid until the beets are submerged. You can throw away the cinnamon sticks, but the whole allspice can go right in with the beets. Fancy! Cover and wait a day or so before eating. Keep them in the fridge unless you want to process them in a canner by waterbathing for 30 minutes.

This is a very cool two-quart canning jar, like you don’t see around much anymore. The Damsel loves this jar, even if it has pickled beets in it.

For some reason, the Knight in Shining Armor must have a bite of pickled beet along with every bite of pork. He thinks he got hooked on this habit in Denmark when he was a missionary there. But how does that explain the sprogs liking them too? The Damsel feels so alone.

He mailed the Damsel a big, heavy box. To her surprise, inside was two GINORMOUS sunflower heads. He’d grown them himself. She pictured they’d be lighter, but with their payload of seeds, they were quite heavy.

Bro-in-law asked for a tutorial on how to harvest and roast the seeds, and he asked so nicely that the Damsel could not refuse.

A sunflower head is ready to cut when the back is yellow and the seeds come out readily. Rub your hand across its face to loosen the dried petals and “debris” before starting in on the seeds.

Now sit yourself down and start picking seeds. Sometimes they’ll come out by rubbing your fingers across them; others may need a little more coaxing. This is a perfect job for a couple of sprog. Sort through and pick out bug-eaten or otherwise unappetizing-looking seeds, but don’t obsess.

The Damsel always wondered why nuts “salted, roasted in the shell” could be salty inside. She learned this is accomplished by soaking the little darlings in salt water.

Mix about 1/4 cup salt per quart of water. The Damsel needed 2 quarts for this prodigious crop of seeds. Stir till dissolved.

Pour the seeds into the salt water. The Damsel was concerned because the seeds floated, and she would have felt better about things if they were submerged. She stirred them a few times, but next time she might put a weighted plate on top of the seeds to hold them under water. Leave for 24 hours.

So many of these old school thingies require waiting. The Damsel hates waiting.

Drain the seeds and rinse briefly, then pat dry with a clean dishcloth. Spread the seeds in a single layer on a rimmed cookie sheet and bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees, stirring every ten minutes. The Damsel was required to do two batches, but she survived.

She also has come to realize that being a sunflower seed sheller would be a tedious job. Please tell her there is a machine for that.

Now, since I ran out of bottles to can a long time ago, and I steadfastly refuse to BUY canning bottles, I have resorted to other means of preserving this bounty. I ran across a recipe for oven roasted freezer tomato sauce in the Relish Magazine the other day that looked yummy so I tried it. And I loved it. But most importantly, my brood loved it. And since I have a large brood of 6 peeps (one who is now a rooster who has temporarily flown the coop and 5 chicks), I am all about making my brood happy. This recipe sends them in to convulsions of delirious joy. And since it is so easy, I am a happy hen, too.

So here it is… an alternative to bottling tomatoes!

First I wash the tomatoes. I was given an assortment of romas and other various varieties of tomatoes. Romas are good because they are meaty and less juicy so they make a good, thick sauce. But any variety of tomatoes will do. I often do it with the cup of grape tomatoes from the grocery store, too, and it works fabulously.

After the tomatoes are washed, I prepare the pan. I use olive oil, but any light oil will work. In the effort to keep things real and honest, I’ve used my ACTUAL cookie sheet. It is stained and dark in the corners. Now you know my secret. I don’t have spotless cookie sheets. I hope it wont ruin our relationship forever!

Cut the stem end off the tomatoes (and any blemishes you wouldn’t want to eat.) This is one of my brood who, thanks to her camera work today, has decided she wants to be a hand model.

Add a few cloves of garlic. I like a lot of garlic. I put in 5 cloves. Yumm. And it keeps the vampires away which is a good thing since Vampires are so last year. And I see a tomato that got through with a stem end still intact. I’ll have to talk to my brood about quality control.

Put on the cookie sheet and drizzle then with a bit more olive oil.

Now is your chance to get creative. You can add basil, rosemary… whatever herbs you like. Or don’t add any at all. It is up to you! And they don’t have to be fresh. You can add dried herbs if that’s what you’ve got. To make it even more easy, you can leave them out all together. Add them whole or chopped up, whichever you want. I put in whole basil and rosemary.

Sprinkle with salt and pepper. I use coarse kosher salt because it’s trendy and makes me feel clever, something I’m not naturally.

Pop the pan in the oven, set to a blazing 450 degrees. Bake until the tomatoes are blackend (30 minutes or so, depending on the size and water content of the tomatoes you use). There will be a lot of clear tomato juice. I sometimes drain it off, and I sometimes keep it. It depends on my mood. If you keep it, your sauce will be runnier. And, conversely, if you drain it, your sauce will be meatier. Well, not really meatier, but thicker because you can’t get meat from tomato plants. Yet.

Smash the roasted tomatoes with a potato masher. Or whatever else you have. I have sometimes let it cool and put it in a freezer baggie and squished it with my fingers, even. Do whatever makes you happy.

Now you can put it in the freezer or on pasta. I wish this were posted on blogsmell.com because it smells so good. It is sweet and hearty smelling. Oh man. My brood keeps hovering at this point. That’s how I know when it is done.

Here it is on spaghetti noodles. Sometimes I add roasted veggies, like zucchinni or summer squash or peppers or eggplant or carrots or onions or all of them. That’s just a bit of heaven, I have to say. All you need is a piece of crusty bread and a green salad…

If you have a lot of peppers in your garden, or even have an extra you bought at the store, you can freeze them as easy as pepper pie. The Damsel wondered if this basket might be a “peck” of unpickled peppers.

A little research reveals:

   peck (pk)
   a traditional unit of volume, formerly used for both liquids
   and solids but now used mostly for dry commodities such as
   grains, berries, and fruits. A peck is 2 gallons, 8 quarts,
   or 1/4 bushel. In the U. S. customary system, a peck holds
   537.605 cubic inches or approximately 8.8098 liters. In the
   British imperial system, a peck is a little larger, holding
   554.84 cubic inches or approximately 9.0923 liters. The word
   "peck", originally spelled "pek", comes from the name of a
   similar old French unit; the origin of the French unit is
   not known.

The Damsel does not want to measure the cubic inches of her basket. The Damsel is afraid of math. But eyeballing the basket–it’s probably close to 1/4 bushel. So there you go. A peck of peppers.

Ahem. Back to the freezing project.

Cut ‘em in half and pull out the seed thingy with your fingers under running water.

Slice lengthwise and then across to create a dice. You can cut them anyway you like, really, but the Damsel does this because pretty much anytime she uses peppers, she cuts them small. There’s Bigpepperpiecesphobia at the Damsel’s cottage.

At this point you can freeze the peppers in whatever way seemeth you best. The Damsel likes to “flash freeze” the peppers first. Here’s the reason: if you put the peppers in a freezer bag/container/whatever now, they will freeze together into a lump, and you’ll have to thaw them before use. If you “flash freeze” them first, the pieces will remain individual, like little bits of green glass, and you can pour out just what you need. The Damsel put a silicone mat inside a cookie sheet and spread the chopped peppers out in a single layer, then popped it into the freezer as is, uncovered. You don’t need the mat, but after they’ve frozen, it’s simplicity itself to pull the mat up by the corners and pour the peppers into a freezer container. The Damsel let them freeze about two hours before making the transfer.

Because she is an overachiever she even did red bell peppers.

You can do any type of peppers this way. Think how easy it will be to reach inside one of these bags for a handful to sprinkle on an omelet or what-have-you.

So what about freezing tomatoes? Does that work?

It actually works quite well, the main drawback being limited freezer space. And, of course, the possibility that your freezer might go out/the power get knocked off/the end of the world. In that respect canning in jars is, well, safer. But if you have a nice big deep-freeze, and you feel pretty confident about the world continuing in its normal orbit for at least another few months, then freezing tomatoes is a great option.

It’s ridiculously easy. You don’t have to do ANYTHING to the tomatoes except maybe wash them.

Then put them, as is, into a ziplock freezer bag. After they freeze, they’ll be like cold, hard balls. Or cold, hard oval-shaped thingies if they are Romas.

To use them, you can put them in a strainer like so and let them thaw. Or just put them in a bowl. A LOT of liquid comes off these babies. When they are thawed (or even partially thawed) the skins will slip right off. That’s right. Just by freezing them, the skins will slip. No blanching necessary! The Damsel loves this so, so much.

The Damsel also loves that all that liquid drains off, so the resulting tomato goo is Nice and Thick. To get it this thick, you’d have to cook it down for a long, long time. Yay! Even less time slaving over a hot stove!

The other thing that is perfectly wonderful about freezing tomatoes is: if you find yourself falling behind in canning your tomato harvest…or have tomatoes you just can’t use quick enough…you can just throw them in the freezer. Then later, you can take them out and do stuff with them. Maybe it will even be winter by then, and you won’t mind the hot stove so much.

Now, just remember that the thawed tomatoes are going to be mushy, and are fit only to be used in a cooked dish. The Damsel doesn’t want to create any unrealistic expectations here. But these guys are perfect in a marinara sauce, or any other cooked tomato-based dish.

Think about how fun it will be to have both mysterious cold, hard, red balls AND black bananas in your freezer.

1. No slaving over hot stoves, as opposed to canning.
2. No peeling.
3. Takes up way, way less storage space.
4. The end product is very versatile.

To dry tomatoes, you need only tomatoes and a heat source. Yes, you can sun-dry tomatoes, and you can do them in the oven. The Damsel used a dehydrator because she has one.

Wash the tomatoes well and then slice. Some people peel them first but the fancy kind you buy in the store aren’t peeled, so why should you?

The Damsel used Romas but any kind will do. If you slice in rounds, they will dry faster.

But, if you want the look of the sun-dried tomatoes you buy at the store, just cut the tomatoes in half lengthwise like so. (Large beefsteak tomatoes need to be cut more than just in half, or you’ll wait a very long time for them to dry.)

Cut a shallow slit on the skin side. Goodness! Be careful!

Arrange the tomatoes on the dehydrator screen (or cookie sheet if you’re doing them in the oven) cut side up, and sprinkle with salt, if you like. The Damsel likes.

Turn the dehydrator on, or set your oven for the lowest temperature and leave the door ajar. The Damsel would NOT like to have her oven on in this manner in the summertime, so she’s glad to have a dehydrator. The Damsel has heard of people drying stuff in cars, and she can believe it because hello, cars can be freakishly hot inside. But this is a problem if you need to actually DRIVE your car anywhere.

And…yes…you could dry them in the sun. But you’ll have to fiddle with some way of covering the trays that doesn’t touch them, like a cheesecloth tent of some kind, because bugs will get on them. And you’ll have to bring them in at night, or the morning dew will be dewy on them. Using the sun is terribly old-school, it’s true.

So, get it set up with your hotness of choice. Walk away. It takes a while. The Damsel hates waiting, but there’s nothing for it. After a couple of DAYS the tomatoes look like this. They are done when they are still pliable, but no moisture remains. If you tear one in half, you should see no beads of moisture along the tear. Check them every few hours…take the smaller pieces out as they dry. The circular cuts may dry in only one day.

The dried tomatoes can be stored in glass, ziplocks, etc.  Just something that will keep them cool and dry.

If you want to make them into those fancy “sun-dried” tomatoes in olive oil, like you buy in stores for $$$$, just put these in a pretty jar, add any herbs you like, (the Damsel likes garlic and fresh basil) and then cover with olive oil. Leave for 24 hours at room temperature before using, then refrigerate. The Damsel has heard it’s best to make this up as you need it rather than keep tomatoes in olive oil for months on end. Also, don’t be alarmed if the oil gets solidified in the refrigerator. Once it comes back to room temperature (or you nuke it) the oil will melt and look normal again. Delicious in pasta and pizza!

Stay tuned for more uses. If you have a favorite way to use dried tomatoes, chime right in.

The Damsel would like to inform you that canning salsa isn’t tricky. The skill level is similar to boiling water. But it ain’t for sissies, either. It takes a while. There’s a good bit of working on your feet, and there’s the heat.

On the good side . . . (pause while the Damsel tries to think of a good side) . . . she only saw one bug during the entire process, and it was a dead spider in the bottom of an empty canning jar. It could have been much worse. There could have been earwigs. It was a completely earwigless day.

And of course there was another good side . . . yummy salsa was made and put away for a winter’s day.

In order to can salsa safely, you have to follow strict recipes and directions. That’s because salsa contains both acid vegetables (tomatoes) and non-acid vegetables (onions and peppers). The balance of acid has to be high enough for it to be safe to do waterbath canning. But the Damsel can’t be bothered with all that. She wants to make salsa her own way, so it tastes the way she likes. And when you pressure can, you don’t have to worry or measure or any of that tedious stuff. When you pressure can your own custom mixtures, you can be safe by figuring out which vegetable in your mixture requires the longest processing time, and then use that time.

But the Damsel is getting way ahead of herself.

First, get the goods. The Damsel stretched forth her hand to her sprog, who went forth to the cottage garden and brought back Roma tomatoes, onions, bell peppers, and a handful of hot peppers.

Here’s how to skin the tomatoes: Heat a large pot of water to boiling. Drop in the washed tomatoes. You can use regular or Roma. “Blanch” them for a minute or two and when their skins split, remove them from the water to cool a bit.  Don’t worry if some tomatoes don’t show a split. If most of the tomatoes in the pot have, the rest are ready as well.

See the split? Now the skins will slip right off. Just nip off the stem with a little knife and poof.

Now the Damsel would like to introduce you to her pet, otherwise known as her grandmother’s grinder. It’s very old school. You put stuff in the top, turn the crank, and perfectly diced things come out. Not like some food processors, that end up pureeing the bottom layer and haphazardly chopping the top layer. Perfect. Perfect. Every time. It can never break, it doesn’t need electricity, and it doesn’t have a million weird little parts to wash. Plus it’s fun to turn the crank. The Damsel has known sprog to fight over the chance.

The Damsel loves her pet, and encourages you to adopt one of your own at your first convenience. As far as she knows, you can only buy them at yard sales.

Dice up your tomatoes, onions, and bell peppers in whatever way seemeth you best if you don’t have a pet. Put it all into a large pot. Add chopped cilantro and garlic, if you know what’s best, plus a lot of salt and pepper. Add some chopped hot peppers, like jalapenos, if you like the heat.

Notice the Damsel hasn’t said how much of anything? She just puts stuff in until it has the balance of red, green, and white that she likes. Taste, taste, taste, and adjust. Taste some more. She guesses the end result if probably 75% tomato, 12% onion, 12% pepper, or something like that.

Oh heaven on a chip.

When it’s just right, ladle into canning jars and assemble the two piece lid/ring, screwing the ring on finger-tight.

The Damsel uses pint jars for salsa. Put 3 or 4 inches of water in the bottom of the pressure canner, along with the rack, and heat to boiling. Put in the jars…as many as will fit. Nine pints fit in the Damsel’s ridiculously big pressure canner. Put on the canner lid tight, and let it start to steam. When a plume of steam is escaping from the vent, set the timer for 10 minutes. Then put on the petcock and pressure will start to build inside the canner. When it reaches 10 lbs. pressure (or whatever pressure you’ve been recommended to use in your area) begin counting processing time. Let the canner cool on its own, then remove the jars and CAREFULLY retighten any jar rings that are very loose.

Here they are, the little beauties. Wait 24 hours and check the seal. If the middle of the lid bops up and down, it didn’t seal, and needs to be refrigerated or reprocessed.

Oh, the delights that now await you! Who can wait for winter?