It’s the Fourth of July and the Marin County Fair is going full Tilt-a-Whirl. This is the first year I’ve entered my jams and jellies in the fair, and my babies did well. Later this week, I’ll do some strutting and clucking of my own — posting a bit about my experience and offering some…
Stewart said this jam is the best he’s ever had. He got so excited about it that he ran out the door to buy vanilla ice cream while the mixture was still cooking, so we wouldn’t waste even the foam I skimmed off the top. Myself, I’m a little bit partial to last year’s Blenheim…
The day after I met Julia, we joined Kate and Tigress for a Can Jammers’ picnic at Thompson-Finch Farm in Ancramdale, New York. We were quite a strawberry-picking crew: me from California, Julia on her home turf, Kate up from Brooklyn, Tigress from the Berkshires. It was a hot, humid morning, and we were all…
If it weren’t for golden-hearted Julia at What Julia Ate, I would be home in my kitchen, pink-faced from steam, turning out jar after jar of jam with no one to talk to. Instead, I’m doing the same, but conversing with a whole world of folks who actually care about what happens when fruit, sugar,…
It’s summer and the Can Jam is gaining momentum. There’s been a lot of excitement about this month’s ingredient, which is anything to do with “erries.” That means berries — and cherries, too. I decided to start my “erry” week with Cherry Meyer Lemon Preserves. We’re rolling in cherries, and June is a fine month…
We’ve been at camp this week, spending slow hours moving from one Adirondack chair to the next, keeping to the dappled shade, carrying along our novels, cold drinks, bug spray. This slanted old house on a lake in way-upstate New York has been in Stewart’s family for almost sixty years. Almost home from a sunset…
Here’s the truth about my Girl Scout career: It ended when I was nine years old, busted for shoplifting red licorice from the local grocery store while wearing my uniform. Before that, I managed to rack up a long list of scouting offenses: I consistently forgot my dues which, in 1975, were one shiny quarter…
Some preserving experts swear by copper jam pans to make the best jams. Others swear off copper pots, calling them unsafe. Here’s the truth.
I was supposed to fly home from New Mexico this morning, but I fell in love with Ghost Ranch and arranged to stay on. I had no idea the place was about to fill up with musicians for its first-ever Bluegrass Camp & Extravaganza. Tonight, the valley swelled with the sounds of plucked strings and…
Did I fool you with my papier-mâché strawberry? Didn’t think so. But my berries were already mashed when I remembered I needed to take a photo with some rhubarb in it, so I thought I’d try to put one over on you. Truth is, I didn’t devote a lot of time to the May options…
When I think of what I would have missed if I’d ignored The Dish n’ Spoon Café today. I was walking into Santa Fe along old Route 66 and I’d gotten myself all turned around. I wandered in big, unintentional loops, appreciating how this town was built around a network of old trails, but desperately…
Today was a traveling day. San Francisco to Santa Fe . . . We crossed the Sierra Nevada. We found the country of adobe and big sky. We drank Santa Fe Pale Ale and had a fine meal at the Galisteo Bistro. A good start to a week-long stay.