If you ask me about Napoleon, I'll tell you about his relationship with sugar. And canning - thanks to Napoleon, we have canning.
I won all the blue ribbons for canning at the state fair.
I spent my summers bottling peaches and my winters rotating supplies. When the World of Men failed, my family would continue on, unaffected.
Each year the big garden grew smaller and Jane - who grew flowers by choice, not corn or stringbeans - worked at the vegetables more than I did. Each winter I dreamed crops, dreamed marvels of canning . . . and each summer I largely failed. Shamefaced, I planted no garden at all.
When I think of summertime as a kid, I think of my Grampy's gardens full of tomatoes, buckets heaping with blackberries, and countertops lined with an assortment of Ball jars, ready to can the flavor of summer.
My family always spent the warm months bottling fruit for storage, which Dad said we'd need in the Days of Abomination.
Jam! I love my jam. I've just had a batch of it come through, I've been making it.
Thus have you the way of making Conserves, the way of keeping of them is in Earthen pots.
The apricot's fleetingly short harvest - only a few weeks long - explains the urge to save the season in a jar. But cooked fruit, no matter how expertly preserved, can never measure up to the flawlessness of its fresh counterpart.
Some of the jam we thought was for tomorrow, we've already eaten
I do a devilish borscht, and I'm very good at pickles. I used to make jars and jars of sweet-and-sour pickled cucumbers.
The spirit of pickling is one of adventure and fun.
In London I had pear trees in my back garden, so I'd make my own pear and green tomato chutney.
I would love to go and live in the mountains... and make jam.
I make jam, and oh my God, it is so delicious.
The tradition of canning is still very close to my heart; that's why I'm so excited to team up with the Ball Home Canning experts at Newell Brands to share how truly rewarding the process can be.
We killed our own hogs, we killed our own beef, we raised our own vegetables, which Mama canned. We did live off the land.
I realized I had it made because you don't have to destroy anything to get honey. You can just use the same things over and over again, put it in a quart canning jar, and you've got $12.
I grew up surrounded by generously yielding plum trees, and as a family we were constantly on the hunt for inspired ways to use up the lovely plums before age got the better of them.
I feel blessed to have had such a background, where animals, food raising, harvesting and canning were a natural part of life.
My signature jam is damson or quince, and it's called 'Kate's Sweet and Sticky'. Basically, I'm a domestic goddess.
Extremely ripe things are not ideal for pickling. If you pour a hot liquid over super ripe strawberries, you're going to have strawberry soup.
I've picked butter beans, okra, watermelon, cantaloupe, honeydew. I've butchered pigs, chickens. We made our own sausage and pudding.
My mom used to make everything. She had a great garden and composted and made everything from scratch - peanut butter, bread, jelly, everything. I don't know how she did it because all those things take time and love and labour. I only do half the stuff she does - but there's still time.
When you grow tomatoes, you're going to get a lot of tomatoes. So you want to learn how to preserve.
