Crushed Tomatoes

Hi folks—I was going to finish up my review of Canned Goods Past in this one post, but the next project demands more space than it would have received in that format. So, for your enjoyment and edification, I present:

Crushed Tomatoes: An Interlude in Two Acts

Act I: Figuring It Out

As summer was ending, I felt strongly that we needed to can some tomatoes for use over the winter. And here’s why: I read a lot about food.

Tomatoland, a compelling and unsettling read.

It all started a few years ago when I read a large chunk of Michael Pollan‘s revealing writing about food systems, which led me, through a series of similar books and movies (mostly about the horrors of the industrial food system in the U.S.), to a couple of books about tomato farming: Heirloom by Tim Stark and Tomatoland by Barry Estabrook.

Heirloom chronicles Stark’s transformation from management consultant to tomato farmer while also describing some of the most delicious-sounding tomatoes I’ve ever heard of: purple and yellow, meaty and juicy, striped and spotted. Just like when Michael Pollan lists different varieties of apples in The Botany of Desire, I was awed by the sheer array of fruit available to us.

Tomatoland made me want to take action, though. Estabrook makes it abundantly clear in his book that winter tomatoes are problematic for two very good reasons: 1) they are picked green and artificially ripened before being shipped to your local grocery, still hard as a rock and completely flavorless, and 2) the entire industry relies on slave labor to exist. I wish I were making this up, but I’m not. Read the book—it’s eye opening.

Combine those unsettling facts with:

• concerns about BPA in store-bought canned tomatoes,
• a fabulous recipe for crushed tomatoes courtesy of Canning for a New Generation,
• a challenge to can something bought in bulk from local farmers, issued by Joel Salatin of Polyface Farms in his book Folks, This Ain’t Normal (so many books!), and
• interest from friend Matthew in learning how to can

and you’ve got a perfect storm of tomato-canning inspiration.

Act 2: Making It Happen

Your humble author and maybe a third(?) of the tomatoes we canned.

So I inquired about buying tomatoes in bulk at the Nichols Farm stand at my local farmers market, where they were willing to give me an awesome deal on some of the season’s last Roma tomatoes; 30 pounds, in fact. The farmer who sold them to me looked doubtful that I had any idea what to do with them, but I ran right home and made a test run with the most beat-up looking individuals. Friend Matthew and his wife, friend Johanna, were coming over in a week to help process the majority of the tomatoes, but some of them weren’t going to last that long. LESSON #7: Can ’em while you’ve got ’em.

The tomatoes filled considerably fewer jars than I expected. Maybe the recipe was a little off (remember LESSON #4?) or maybe I was cutting away too much flesh around the core? In any event, the end product was gorgeous, so I was happy. And tired. Two batches of canned tomatoes took me four hours. LESSON #8: Bulk canning takes time and energy. Plan accordingly.

Cut to a week later when friends Matthew and Johanna (90 months pregnant) arrive, and the four of us (including husband Rob) made short work of the remaining haul from Nichols Farm, plus 10 pounds M+J brought with them. Everyone walked away with enough canned tomatoes (and juice) to last most of the winter. Success!

The moral of this story, I suppose, is that a) there are problems with the way we produce and consume food products in this country and b) there absolutely are solutions to those problems. Like a lot of things, the old ways are sometimes the best ways. LESSON #9: They weren’t canning in Ye Olden Days just for shits and giggles, folks.

Let’s Review

I thought it might be a good idea to keep a list of the things I’ve canned and anything I might have learned along the way. Join me on a trip down memory lane, won’t you?

Pickled Roasted Peppers:  Friend Natalie came to town with peppers from her garden so we decided to give this little recipe a whirl last summer. I was worried about the end result because we had so much pickling liquid left over. Turns out we only used 2 pint jars instead of 3. Whoops! LESSON #1: Follow the recipe.

I seriously wouldn’t eat the peppers for fear of death until Natalie told me she had eaten some (and not died). Turns out they were quite good. Also kind of spicy—we had thrown in some of her homegrown Hungarian wax peppers. LESSON #2: Chill out. You’re probably not going to kill anybody. We’ll talk in depth about current USDA canning guidelines v. traditional methods some other time. Short version: the USDA acts like you’re going to kill someone every time you can vegetables.

Oh, pickled asparagus, you rascal.

Pickled Asparagus:  Since husband Rob and I like asparagus so much, and since asparagus has such a short growing season, it seemed like a natural choice for canning. I found a great recipe in Linda Ziedrich’s The Joy of Pickling, and we went to town on some locally-grown organic asparagus from King’s Hill Farm. Turns out that non-industrial asparagus is irregular in size and color, including some beautiful purple stalks that unfortunately turn green when you heat them. LESSON #3: What you initially can isn’t always what you end up with. Regardless of color, these were a big hit over the holidays when you would least expect to experience some gorgeously tangy organic asparagus.

And guess what? When all was said and done, I had some pickling liquid left over this time, too. (Right number of jars, though.) In any case, it doesn’t seem to have done any damage to the flavor or safety of the asparagus, so: LESSON #4: The recipe will probably always be a little off. No big deal.

Blueberry and Apple Jam:  As long as I’m revealing all of my secrets, I may as well mention that I adore Liana Krissoff’s Canning for a New Generation, and I’ve been canning with her recipes almost exclusively since I bought her book. I had been primarily pickling up to this point, and when I decided to turn my attention to something sweet it seemed natural to try one of Ms. Krissoff’s recipes. I love that she recommends using natural pectin (from fruit skins, pith, and cores) instead of relying on the processed, store-bought stuff. She’s also a fan of minimizing the sugar content of recipes to let the natural fruit flavor shine through, which I find dreamy. Of course, this jam is absolutely delicious.

Around the same time that I made this recipe, I felt like my canning was ready to move into the world in a bigger way, so I talked it up with a bunch of friends. Unfortunately, I made some big promises that I almost couldn’t keep. A couple of friends were moving into new apartments, so they needed some jam. A couple of other friends just liked jam, so they got some, too. Of the almost 4 pints of blueberries that I started with, I ended up keeping only 1/4 pint of jam for myself and the husband. LESSONS #5 & 6: It takes a lot of fruit to make a little jam. Don’t give it all away.

Wow—600 words really sneaks up on you. Stay tuned for Part 2. Coming soon!

Illinois State Fair

I’m trying to figure out how entering state fair competitions work, but the 2013 premium books and entry forms aren’t available yet on the official Illinois State Fair website.

Toby Keith!

Here’s what I know so far:

• The state fair will be held in Springfield from August 8-18, 2013.
• Toby Keith is headlining, and tickets for his show went on sale yesterday.
• A lot of awesome and wacky events happen at the fair—I would love to see the banjo, fiddle, and ponytail(!) contests, but I might skip the diaper derby. Maybe.

Using the 2012 premium book, I’ve pieced together some idea of how the culinary contests work. Information may change as the 2013 books become available, but I have a feeling only contest numbers and/or premium amounts will differ. (Premiums are how much money you win for placing in each contest.) The Illinois Department of Agriculture has to secure the budget for premiums from the General Assembly, which might be tricky given the financial bind Illinois has been in recently. I don’t know; I’m just guessing.

In any case, I’ll be entering two categories, both in Department N: Culinary. The first will be in Division 4: Syrup, Jellies, Preserves, Jams, Marmalade and Butter; specifically, contest 14278: Strawberry Preserves. According to the description, preserves are “whole fruits or pieces of fruit cooked in a heavy sugar syrup.” The fruit should be “as well shaped as possible. Good preserves are plump and tender with natural color and flavor.” Sounds good to me. I could win up to $7 for first place/blue ribbon in this contest. Winner of overall Best Preserves also wins a “rosette.” I…suddenly really want a rosette.

My second contest falls under Division 6: Pickles, Sauces and Relishes; contest 14327: Dill Pickles. I could win another $7 for first place/blue ribbon. There’s also a rosette for Best Pickle, which obviously I must win.

ASIDE: I’m a little less sure about entering the pickling contest. The pickles have to be canned and entered for judging by the time the fair starts, and they must be from this year. That could be cutting it close for cucumber harvesting in Illinois. I’ve consulted different sources, which say that you can pick cucumbers in Illinois starting as early as May or as late as August(!). Ideally, I’d also like to grow my own, but that might be adding too much complexity to this project. We’ll see.

Recipes should be submitted sometime in June (not a problem; I’ve already chosen them), and if I hear back that my recipes are accepted by the judges, then I send in my entry fee of $1 per contest. Given that general admission to the fair is $7/person and parking is another $7, I won’t make my money back even if I win first place in both contests. That’s okay, though. I’m doing it for the ribbons and the recognition (and the rosettes). It looks like most of last year’s winners entered and won a whole lot more than two contests. That’s some stiff competition!

Anne is horrified by corporate sponsorship.

You should seriously see the premium book I’m looking at (unfortunately taken down from the fair site just recently). There are literally hundreds of contests, each with its own set of rules and premiums. Some I find ridiculous (cakes baked from a mix—boo!); some are amazing (family heirloom recipes from before 1950—first place rightly wins $150); and some are sponsored by private companies. For instance, I could use Mrs. Wages pickling mix and win a $75 Mrs. Wages gift certificate and gift basket. Or I could use C&H sugar and win a buttload of sugar (25 lbs. for first place!). That’s not really my style, though. Like Anne of Green Gables, my art must remain pure and brand-free.

Now you know everything about my plans for the state fair. What do you think?

Strategic Plan 2013

Here’s the plan for the first half of 2013, folks. I established last year that I could organize one canning project per month, so I’m going to try to keep that pace through the spring and summer at least. Consider all of the below as test batches for possible larger production in 2014. If all goes well, I could become the “cocktail onions guy” at your local farmers market!

Strawberry Jam (Spring):  This needs to look good because I want to enter it in the state fair. Plus: yum. Keep your fingers crossed.

Cocktail Onions (Spring):  I’ve got canned tomato juice from last summer and pickled asparagus from last spring; I guess I’m trying to make the perfect Bloody Mary. What else goes in a Bloody Mary, anyway? Okra? Bacon? Some kind of fruit?

Pickled Beets (Spring):  I can’t decide whether to go with vinegar-pickled beets or fermented beets.  I’ve got a bunch of fermenting projects lined up (see below), so maybe vinegared beets to keep things simple. Help me decide? Definitely pipe up if you know which one makes the better borscht.

Dill Pickles (Summer):  These will be fermented for sure, assuming it doesn’t reach 200 degrees in my apartment again this summer. Also a contender in the state fair, if all goes according to plan.

Yard-Long Beans (Summer):  Technically not a canning project, since they’re more of a counter ferment that I’ll end up freezing. I don’t know where to find yard-long beans, but I need them for a recipe I want to try. So there you go. Plus, it will be nice to have a not-canning project, especially right before…

Seriously, guys, I love these tomatoes.

Canned Tomatoes (Late Summer):  This project went very well last summer, and we’ve been using these guys like crazy all winter. I’ll explain later why it’s so important to me to put away tomatoes (instead of buying winter tomatoes at the grocery), but suffice to say: this was one of the most successful DIY projects I’ve ever undertaken.

In the meantime, I’m still trying to figure out the Japanese bran pickle (nuka) situation. To ponder:

• This baby is going to crank out a continuous stream of fermented pickles. Do I want that many? Will I be able to use them? Or will it devolve into a half-forgotten science fair project in my pantry? Like the kimchi (God rest its soul.)
• Will I be able to keep it alive (in the fridge, of course) over the summer?
• I have all of the ingredients in the house. Will I ever put them together?
• It would be nice to have a kitchen project right now.
• Would my friends want periodic gifts of fermented pickles? I will ask.

In any case:  Thoughts? Suggestions? Requests? Lay it on me.

Queer in Tennessee

I keep running across references to the queer communities living in the hills of Tennessee. Sandor Ellix Katz, author of the inspiring fermentation guide “Wild Fermentation,” lives with the faeries at Short Mountain Sanctuary, and I just stumbled across this video of their sister community Idyll Dandy Acres.

Well, “stumbled across” in the sense that I followed a bunch of links that looked interesting, starting with the Facebook profile of the incomparable Ms. Natalie Reteneller. (I was wishing her a happy 40th birthday, and you should, too, because she’s wonderful.) Maybe I should stop acting like it’s an accident that I find my interests interesting?

I dream of living a rural life, and I think I could do much worse than sharing it with the confident, creative folks at IDA. The healing power of that place and their community is evident just from watching the video; imagine actually living there.