“The fruit of your own hard work is the sweetest.” — Deepika Padukone
I agree that hard work can produce some pretty sweet results. This quote is an analogy; it’s not really talking about fruit that grows on a tree; it’s talking about hard work and results. Recently, though, I had a chance to do some hard work with real fruit, and let’s just say the results were not entirely sweet.
In my backyard, the random luck of the universe gave me a large crop of blackberry bushes. There are some giant sumac weeds mixed in, and the marauding squirrels and dive-bombing blue jays get most of the fruit, but I’ve been more diligent lately and have been harvesting a big bowl of berries almost every day. I made a few of my childhood favorite “blackberry sandwiches,” which take no hard work. You can have a summer treat with a piece of Wonder Bread, several smears of soft butter, a bunch of blackberries, and a sprinkle of sugar, and they are amazing.
Still, the blackberries were coming in faster than I could snarf down the sandwiches (which is saying something), so I thought, “Hey, I could make jam with these.” It’s important to note that I’ve never made jam, and I usually don’t grow things, like, ever. Still, why not give it a try? What’s the worst thing that could happen?
It turns out that third-degree burns and blowing up a pan on the stove could be the worst outcome, but that didn’t happen, so that’s a small win. However, there are permanent stains on my counter, and one pan is still soaking in the sink because it got a little burnt while I was making a simple syrup. It might only be sugar and water, but honestly, they need to change the name of that, because I didn’t find it simple at all.
Also, the food writers need some editing. Whoever publishes the online recipes should understand that if you call it an “easy jam recipe,” it should not start with “day one.” If a recipe has so many steps it covers more than one day, I am out. There should also not be endless scrolling to get to the recipe. No, I don’t care about the berry trees on the Amalfi Coast or which bird species like which berries. Tell me what goes in the bowl and how it turns into what I want. Is that too much to ask?
After several days of harvesting bowls full of juicy blackberries, I was ready to turn them into jam. Faithful readers (all five of you) will recall that I am a kitchen disaster and not much of a gardener either. But, hey, if life gives you blackberries, jam it up! The nice thing about trying a new recipe is that I always learn something. Pectin isn’t a chest muscle; it’s some kind of goo that goes in jelly and jam and turns it into something more than mashed-up fruit. There’s probably more to it than that, but whatever, I bought the pectin, like the recipe said.
Blackberries have a lot of seeds, and while I’ve seen jars of jam that include seeds, the instructions I had said to strain the fruit, which means with a filter, not, you know, making it do Pilates lunges or yoga. After that, you add the not-so-simple syrup and boil the jars. In this recipe, you cook the jars, not the fruit. There are seals and lids, and you sterilize the little jars by boiling them. Once you have the smashed berries, the pectin, and the sugar, you put them in the jars, seal the lids, and hope for the best.
Most of what I read said to “put up the preserves” for a few weeks before trying them. Too bad I didn’t read that before I tasted the jam, which, quite honestly, was awful. Maybe a few weeks in the cabinet will help. I’m still glad I tried it. Blackberry season is far from over, so perhaps I will make a second attempt at finding my jam. In the meantime, who wants berries? Come on by!
Brenda Kelley Kim has lived in Marblehead for 50 years, and is an author, freelance writer, and mother of three. Her column appears weekly.