Everybody Salsa!

One of the best things about summer in Michigan is tomatoes, and the long waiting period we suffer through to get to that magical, late-summer era where they become abundant. Despite the bizarre heat-waves, the intense water-stress, and a few late-night pilfering sessions, my tomatoes have finally entered the Realm of Plenty, which means only one thing: Salsa!!

My husband learned how to make salsa from my Hispanic step-dad, and it was love at first sight for Jake. He loved the whole process of selecting the produce, coring and slicing everything up, mixing, tasting, and the lengthy procedure that is water-bath canning. I learned to can from my mom, who learned from her mom, who probably learned from her mom or grandmom, and both Jake and I appreciate the work and dedication that goes into an afternoon of canning home-grown produce.

When you grow it yourself, can it yourself, and then head to the pantry or basement in the dead of winter to retrieve one of these jewel-colored glass jars from the dark shelves, it just feels right. It's a feeling that simply cannot be duplicated with store-bought food. Ever.

Late this morning, around 11am, Jake and I began our canning process. Because we have canned together before, we have a synchronicity that makes the entire thing go a little smoother than our first time. The heat of the day and the cramped kitchen quarters could have easily broke even the coolest of pro canners, but things went well, and by 5pm, we had just finished washing the last of our dishes. As we looked over our day's work, we observed 6 quarts and a pint of tomato juice, 6 pints of delicious salsa, and 6 pints of pickled hot peppers and garlic. It all equaled 3 separate 'turns' in the water-bath canner, and although this bounty may seem meager, it is actually extremely well for the time we spent- around 6 hours total.

For myself, I'm not sure what I appreciate more about canning each summer: opening up a can in January and tasting that summer freshness, giving me hope that winter will eventually end; or that delightful 'plink' that comes from the jar lid sealing itself against the glass, signifying a successful canning job.

Comments

[Pat]

I'm a fan of the "plink" when I'm sitting in the living room knitting while the jars are cooling...:)