A little backstory is necessary to properly set the stage. When my father died, by my mother’s own admission, she gave up cleaning and to some degree cooking. I don’t know what her housekeeping was like when he was alive, but over time, it became less and less. The kitchen became a place to paint and build elaborate stage scenery for dance recitals, or to fashion life size skeletons for elementary school Halloween carnivals. There wasn’t a lot of room for cooking.
Growing up I remember my mom making tacos, chili, pork chops smothered in mushroom soup and the occasional luxury of rib eye steak on the BBQ. The only time we ever saw a vegetable was at Thanksgiving where green beans would appear. I don’t recall baking though I have a slight recollection of toll house cookies, but that may well have been my sister or my contribution. I’m sure we ate, as weight was never an issue for any of us, but I don’t recall what. As years went by, we moved out and mom became more I’m going to say delightfully eccentric. Her meals varied between Jack in the Box and KFC.
We lived in a house purchased by my mom and dad, or more accurately my dad, while my mother was in the hospital at Camp Pendleton having me. We had a large yard which was home to two lemon trees, a loquat tree and a plum tree. We’d regularly make lemonade properly loaded with lots of lovely white refined sugar. The loquat tree, would bear a huge harvest of the small golden fruits, primarily adding color to the yard and food for the birds. On occasion while in the yard we’d eat one or two. And then there was the plum tree. It was large and it was robust; putting out bushels of plums. To which my non-cooking, non-domestic mom made tons of plum jelly.
Fast forward: when Mick and I moved into our home, it was so exciting to plant our little orchard. A peach tree, apricot, nectarine, orange, two lemon trees (of course), lime, cherry, kumquat, loquat and two plum trees. The trees are now mature and this year our plum tree was robust creating memories of mom and her plum jelly. So in my infinite wisdom, I researched the Internet, found a recipe, bought Ball canning jars and the sad, sad story begins.
Last Sunday, Mick and I traipse up the hill with my bucket to collect plums. The little bucket filled in no time, so down the hill to grab two 5-Gallon Home Depot buckets. We promptly hauled some 40lbs of ripe plums down the hill. We tucked them away in the laundry room, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t rot before I could get to them. Four days later, I spend two hours perched on a stool sorting out any now-too-ripe plums while Mick runs to the store to secure bags of ice. The plums are now safely stored in iced coolers until the weekend. And Saturday arrives … it jam day!!
Now mom made jelly and half the people I know have at some time made jelly. Different from my mom, I cook, regularly and pretty well … yup this will be a breeze. Plus, I found a great recipe that uses 1/2 the sugar and you leave the skins on. I’ve got this. Question – Have you ever pitted 40 pounds of plums? Or 40 pounds of anything for that matter? It started in the kitchen standing at the counter, big cutting board in place, music in the background … 5 plums in (5, not 5 pounds, 5!), I thought are you kidding me? This can’t be for real, people actually do this? And enjoy it? Fast forward an hour and I’m 5lbs in, starting to feel some confidence. Oh but wait there are still 35lbs in the cooler. Four more hours, I’ve brought a stool into the kitchen and I’m feeling the pain.
5 hours, 6 hours, 7 hours … I’m hunched over the sink, sweat dripping in my eyes, working on the last of the plums. I am determined to complete this preparation trainwreck. Did I mention this was one of the hottest days of the year so far? Temperature pushing 90 and no I don’t have air conditioning. Did I mention it’s 40lbs of plums. 40! At this point there is plum juice, plum peal and plum meat all over the sink, the counter, the kitchen window, the back door, the floor, the dog, and oh yeah, me. Three days later my fingernails still look like I work as a car mechanic. Ah but now the prep is done and it only took 8 hours. Finally, finally, finally … now the fun part.
Yes, because I have no idea what I am doing, I pull out my ultra-big stock pot. You know like you cook lobsters in! In go the plums, sugar and lemon juice. Let the boiling commence, and commence, and commence. Did I mention it is the hottest weekend of the year? Temperature now in the 100’s and I have a GIANT boiling pot on the stove, casting steam and heat all over my little house. After roughly 4 hours of non-productive boiling, it comes to my attention that my pot is too big …. that must be it! Transfer all to 3 separate pots … splash/splash plums on the stove. Ah, much better, now I have 3 boiling pots on my stove. Heat, heat, steam, steam. Boil, boil toil and trouble! Boil, boil into the night.
Boil, boil toil and trouble
Plums abound in days so hot
Making jam, recipe double
Cooking, cooking but jelling not
Juice and skin on the wall
Everything purple, sticky and sweet
Never ending, but who to call?
Google this, google that, not even a tweet
It is now one week since we innocently picked those dastardly plums. Unknowing that our life would be consumed for a week. Unknowing that we’d stand for hours upon hours, doubled over in pain and sweat, pitting plums. Unknowing that my kitchen would have purple plum stains literally everywhere. Unknowing that my pasta pots would die a slow death under the spell of the plums. Unknowing that the “healthy” recipes using less sugar and no pectin, fail to mention THAT THE JAM NEVER JELLS!! HELLO!
I give up, I don’t know how mom did it. And I no longer care. Please people, friends and family…don’t send me your grandmas recipe or your success stories. I’m done. Yes I bottled the plum concoction, set or not, it’s done. I have effectively bottled 22 pints – some are plum preserves, some are plum syrup. Moral of the story, if things don’t turn out exactly as planned, change your expectations and move on with your life. Plum Syrup it is! And it’s spectacular.
And me, well back to what I know the best. I’ve repurposed my plum boiling/used to be pasta pots into great succulent pots …. don’t think I’ll be using them again for canning anytime soon.
