Recently, I squeezed in some late season canning. I was determined. So blindly determined that let me warn you: this is not a post for the faint-hearted. Nor is it one that will inspire you to can tomatoes. In fact, if you come to my house and I offer you tomato soup, there's a good chance you'll decline.
One Friday afternoon, all excited to get going, the girls and I went to a local farm and got a big box of tomatoes. Things got busy, however, and the box sat on the kitchen counter. And sat. And sat. Days (weeks?) later, Clara and I cleared our evening calendar and tackled the huge box we'd long managed to block from our sight.
We salvaged about half the tomatoes, ignoring the mouse poop at the bottom of the box. Given these self-made trying conditions, we had to work fast to keep up our resolve. In other words, we didn't really have time to clean up the kitchen before we began. Clara dove in. Hands, feet and all.
The result? Eight beautiful jars of canned tomatoes. All's well that ends well. Though we haven't yet made any soup.
The JARS of tomatoes look pretty - the box of tomatoes - hmmmm - not so much :). sss
ReplyDeleteI've canned the last few years and I can't stand all the work. This summer we bought a dehydrator. Much easier. Still a bit of a pain but nothing like canning. I haven't tried rehydrating them yet though!
ReplyDeleteThanks for that thought! The work / pay-off ratio with canning has mystified me, but I've attributed it to my novice stature. I like the idea of saving myself (and my produce) and going the dehydrating route. Hope to see you at Nov. BC!
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