Over the several days I completed the final process in my quest to seal up the Mrs. Utah nomination: I put aside/put up/bottled/canned/preserved food from my vegetable garden, which had a bit of a rough start. It really perked up there late in the season.
I have never canned food by myself before. This may come as a shock to some of you, considering my many documented domestic accomplishments. I never compliment myself, but my friends say I bake wonderful bread (except for that one time when Nemesis came over and I botched the cinnamon bread--you were so good to pretend it was delicious). Anyway, I decided it was time to get out the canner my mother-in-law gave me for my birthday three years ago, and try my hand at canning all those tomatoes my garden produced. I got six quarts of tomatoes, six quarts of yummy gardinella hot mix (this sounds so much like a gross female disease that I almost hestitate to type it here), and about three billion quarts of green tomato ketchup.
That's right, green. I got the recipe on the Internet when I was looking for another recipe for fried green tomatos (which were great, btw). I thought to myself, "Hey, I have about five pecks of green tomatoes out there that will never turn red before the frost. Why not?" So I went for it. We haven't actually tried it yet, but the pre-canning taste tests revealed that it does have a certain condimenty flavor. I'm sure I can use it for something. And if anyone wants to try it, just let me know. I think I have a year's supply for everyone.
My favorite comment during the cooking process (four hours simmering on the stove):
TG: What smells like poop?
That's the ketchup you're going to be putting on everything you eat for the next five years, sister.
DB didn't smell anything, and DBJ, uncharacteristically, didn't comment. And it only took me an hour to get the kitchen cleaned up afterward. Overall, I call it a wild success.
Now all I have to do is get my hair real big, lose about seventy pounds, get myself a Church Dress (big ol' lace collar), and I should be a shoe-in. There she is . . . Mrs. Uuuuuu-taaaaaaah . . .
5 comments:
I'm so proud of you, Canner! And I'm interested to know how your green ketchup tastes. Do you think it'll go well with phyllo-wrapped, sugar-sprinkled, strawberry-bedeckled brie?
I'm free this weekend, by the way. I don't know if you like football at all---I personally don't---but I'd be free during the BYU game on Saturday.
I hear canned stuff from the cannery tastes delicious. Now I'm not so sure. Perhaps that was from people who eat poop.
I, myself, have never canned. I understand that this will contribute to my destruction at the last day, but I'm just not ready to be in the running for Ms. Utah.
CC: This weekend I am free. Do you choose Saturday or Sunday? Because you could have dinner with us if you came on Sunday. I have phyllo already. Green ketchup with brie? No.
SM: Of course I got the bottles at a yard sale. Do you think I'm going to pay 50 cents a bottle at D.I.? Or worse, $7.99 for a box of twelve at Maceys? Silly question.
Coop: Your name rhymes with poop. Did you notice? MR. Utah reads "Man of Steel and Velvet," has many lady friends that read his blog, and enjoys Musical Theater, Dreamworks animated movies, and the color blue. I think you're almost there.
I began to notice in kindergarten when all the kids used to call me poop. So thanks for bringing up those memories.
East: You have every right to ask this question, or any question. Cicada is the one to answer this one, however, b/c she has the recipe. The last baked brie I made was smothered in apricot preserves, folded up in phyllo dough, and baked until hot and melty. Delicious. It was ugly, b/c I didn't wait long enough for the phyllo to thaw, and it was all crackly, but it was tasty.
CooperPooper: Sorry to dredge up the old pain. I'll try not to do that so much anymore. But how could I have possibly known that little kids would have discovered that your name rhymes with something gross? That's weird. Kind of like the kids that used to call me "Lezbie." THAT was fun. Thanks a LOT for making me relive those tender moments. You owe me one, pal.
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