Happy New Year everyone!
May all your foodie dreams come to fruition this year.
Speaking of fruits, this is the time when I don my imaginary apron and get busy chopping mini mountains of gorgeous, ruby-red strawberries. In other words, it’s Jam Season.
I have grown up eating a lot of jam sandwiches. Nay, I have grown up eating a lot of Kissan Jam sandwiches (the undisputed king of jams). To me no other jam lends itself to smooth slathering quite like Kissan. The knife can glide over the bread in one sweep, like the bat of the Little Master, with no bumps and speed breakers. There are no irritating chunks of fruit to interrupt the spreading (or the eating). The jellier and pinker the jam, the better.
Kissan gave you what you wanted out of a jam sandwich. Sugar buzz on white bread. That’s mah jam.
But…if you’re someone who likes to taste chunks of real fruits in your jam, I have a tale for you. Are you ready to jam? (If my kids had their way, there would be at least five eye-rolling emojis at this point).
Anyway, the story goes back more than 25 years when I first acquired the ‘Time Life - The Good Cook’ collection of cookbooks. There are 28 books in the collection, of which I was given 14. I still don’t know who took (stole) the rest of them. But I assume they know who they are. Vasu? Vinita?
I would pore over these books as part of my mission to become a ‘good cook’. There was one titled ‘Preserving’ that had collected literal cobwebs on the shelf for the longest time (because I didn’t have much of an interest in preserving food, or in dusting, for that matter). Most of my time was occupied in experiments with Lamb, Poultry, Desserts, Fish & Shellfish, Biscuits and the like.
However, one day, “make burgers” was on the brats’ agenda. So I immediately dove into the sanctum of Mr. Outdoor Cooking to learn how to make burgers (with accompaniments). That led me to a quest to learn how to make sauerkraut, which in turn led me to the lonely and neglected aforementioned Mr. Preserving, so I could understand the secrets of sauerkraut. Browsing through the pages I landed on a chapter called ‘Sugar’ (usually a sign you’re heading in the right direction).
To cut a long story short, the section on Jams, Jellies and Sweet Preserves took my fancy. I diligently read everything I could about Pectin, a substance produced by the flesh, skins and pips of most fruits when they are boiled. It helps in setting the fruit into a gel like consistency with the addition of sugar and some sort of citrus.
In short, jams get jammy with pectin, and not in the Rahul Dravid way. (If you understood that last joke, you’re a cricket lover and I like you already).
When I first starting jamming (sorry), I took a lot of advice from Linnet Mushran, the owner of Bhuira Jams who also happens to be my sister-in-law’s mother. Linnet was (and still is) a walking dictionary on jams, and always happy to share her tips and tricks.
I began experimenting with all kinds of fruits to see how well they would convert to jams. Some, like plums, just became a big bowl of gloop. Apples made for a ‘meh’ jam, except when the they were cooked and left to strain overnight in a muslin cloth (which created a lovely translucent perfectly tart jelly). Since impatience is my biggest virtue, that recipe took a backseat forever.
Strawberries always got the best results so strawberry jam became an annual tradition in the ‘winter’ season. This was helped by the fact that, around this time, I also discovered Linzer Torte, an Austrian dessert made with fresh fruit jam and almond pastry. I got good at making it, and my family loves eating it. It’s turned into the best excuse to jam out every year.
As my daughter would say when asked how many brownies I should make for the school fair, “LOTS AND LOTS” of strawberries are brought home. They are washed and cut into big chunks. They are blessed with lots and lots of sugar, along with some lemon juice, and the rest is left to the fire gods.
When the bubbling cauldron starts looking jammy, spitting and hissing like red lava, I know it’s ready for prime time.
But first, patience (the real test). The jam stays burning hot for at least a couple of hours before you can even think of having a taste. I try to pass that time by getting a plate, placing a slice of white bread on it, getting a butter knife ready, taking the obligatory photos, and calling everyone in the house to “come look at the colour!”
And then it’s time to make tea (of course), a perfect partner to the hero that is about to make an entrance. The still-warm jam (with real chunks of strawberries) begins to melt the butter, turning a supposedly humble sandwich into a succulent treat.
So when I see the roadside fruit vendors begin to sell strawberries by-the-kilo, piled high in their tokris like ruby red Christmas trees, I know the time has come.
Once again, I wish you all a happy 2024. I hope you have a deliciously jam-packed year 😊
The best substack on the Internet by far
Awesome read ! My mouth was watering with all the strawberry talk !Have to order the torte soon !🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓