Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Home Fresh Home

In the sun-soaked way of dreams, I see my 7-year old self running, giggling with my sisters through corn-fields on the Snake River Plain in Southeastern Idaho, the heart-beat thump of being lost and then shrieking at the thrill and disappointment of being found.  Hide-and-seek in the country.  Dirt in our toes and fingernails, mud splat in the face, a tangle of braids down our backs and Kool-Aid stains on the corners of our lips.  My brother Paul wanting to ignore us, but being outnumbered, succumbed to the necessity of humoring us.  On our way home, the sweet scent of bright green beans, the moist, earthy aroma of freshly-dug spuds in baskets in the back of our sky-blue station wagon.  Carrots.  The nose does not forget.

A few months ago, through the stress of career and dealing with the loss of a long relationship, I started yearning for those bucolic times.  Golden memories of apricot jam smeared on a warmed potato roll, cinnamon apple sauce we crushed through a grinder attached to the end of our kitchen table - everyone taking a turn no matter how young or small you were.  A freshly-sliced tomato straight from the garden, sprinkled with a bit of sugar on a small plate - breakfast.  When things get complicated, I always want for something just like that.  Something simple.  Fresh.  Home. 

I hatched the idea of re-visiting my home, picking foods straight from our backyard, and preserving the yumminess.  I re-kindled my love of canning, in particular, preserves, jams, and my favorite - Jelly.  And now I want to share it with you.  And lest I not forget about other wonderful things - wine, health, food, cocktails, travel, and the wonderful people I share them with. 

Welcome to Autumn's Copper Pot. 

1 comment:

  1. Nice I hated canning and gardening growing up but now I find it enjoyable for all the memories and the satisfaction of growing and preserving my own food. Jams always throw Me for a loop though... Back to the set point...

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