Guests Merry With Your Cheer

My sister and her family are coming to visit this weekend. Among the routine logistical back-and-forths, the plans have involved a long Facebook thread about what we'll eat while they're here and where we'll buy it and how it will be prepared and whether or not I'll bother pleasing anyone but the two of us.

This kind of selfishness will surprise no one who knows me even a little bit well. It also has some precedent when applied to my sister and myself. We're the duo that, once upon a time, flew clear across the country to visit with our father's sisters and spent the entire long weekend with them eating pancakes at this very specific place and having dessert at that very specific place and so on (that we were young at the time and somewhat in their care comforts me in that it means we come by our obsessions honestly). Among other memories, I carry with me the yogurt and berries we ate at some posh hotel (the only breakfast we could afford), the peach daiquiris our grandmother served (it was the last time I saw her before her death less than two months later), the picnic lunch our aunt packed for the plane ride back to Philadelphia (shrimp & cream cheese spread on mini bagels which lasted until we just barely cleared the runway in San Francisco).

Some years after that trip we sat together in our parents' kitchen with the man that she would soon marry. Why we were there and our parents were not I don't recall, but I do remember what we ate. Brie and roasted garlic (hey, it was the 90s), a pesto made with half spinach and half basil (it shrunk in the micro), smoked salmon. That my future brother-in-law loves my sister was abundantly evident because knowing him better now I can say that there's no way on earth we'd get away with putting that array of foodstuffs on the table these days.

She'd like to do a bit of canning while they're visiting so I'm hoping to cue up some brandied blueberries or blackberries. That's an easy choice because we won't need to monitor a jelling point or whatever and can thus accommodate the distractions our collected five children will no doubt visit upon us. We'll also visit the local farm market, the merits of which she's listened to me extol for years now. I'll buy a couple chickens to grill and maybe some peaches to make into soup. Friday night I'll grill some cheese (yes! it's true - man, I love this stuff) and wrap bacon around jalapeños from the plants out by the old stone wall. We'll open the olives that are already marinating and the red onions I mixed up earlier this evening. Collectively, they'll be the perfect foils for a hot, humid Philadelphia summer evening.

When my sister comes to town.

There's a Lesson Here Somewhere

If one is of a mind to do a bit of canning and looks around online for help and resources, it does not take long before one realizes the broad spectrum of humanity that takes a like-minded interest. You’ve got your homemaking traditionalists, your survivalists, your back-to-the-landers, some latter-day hippies and crunchies, gardeners experiencing scope creep, foodies (who overlap, but do not totally align, with slow foodies), locavores (ditto), organic-interested activists, and so on. Oh, and hobbyists. I think that last one is mine, although I have much in common with most – if not all – of the others and it helps to understand that there are no hard lines in between and that many of us move in and out of various canning circles as we go about our business.

Anyway, my point is that many of us come to the canning thing with something of an agenda beyond getting through the winter. And, like opinions on canning safety, there are divergent viewpoints on the value of other methods of “putting food by”. Some folks include drying in their repertoire (I dabble – dried cherries are an awfully nice thing to have around but can’t for the life of me understand the appeal of, say, ostrich jerky) and many canners also keep a freezer. Some folks love their freezer (or dehydrator) and cannot imagine why on earth someone like me would stand in summer’s heat over vats of boiling water. For me, striking the right balance between frozen, canned and dried items is a particular pleasure, akin to solving an only-slightly complex puzzle the rewards for having done so give on.

One of the many displays of canned goods on offer at the Monticello gift shop. Yes, I take pictures of canned goods displays. I can't be the only one. Oh, I am?

I keep a separate freezer that when spring rolls around is nigh on empty but begins to fill again as the growing season marches on. Except when we’re away on vacation and a massive summer storm runs through town, downing trees and power lines and we don’t have electricity for four days and my sister-in-law (who is lovely and wonderful in every way) does her level best to save everything but in the end the entire business is a loss. You ken that I’m not speaking hypothetically about this, yes? We returned home, with many frantic phone calls and texts in between, to find it all gone – the meats and berries and grains and soups and…all of it. So we’re starting from scratch (ha!) just as summer begins to – pardon me for this one – heat up, harvest-wise.

Canning I’ll still do as I have a standing order for dilly beans and I have a few wants of my own, but I think this is a great opportunity to re-examine the freezer and its prospective contents. More beef is definitely out – we likely wouldn’t have finished what we still had for quite some time anyway what with the allergies and all. More chicken? Fish? We’ve got a bead on a source for responsible salmon (as opposed to the kind that drinks all your whiskey and then steals your car keys?) so that might be doable.

The path remains to be discovered. There are a lot of open questions to address regarding our changing palates, energy use, how and what we want to eat and what’s available to us from which to choose. While we work through the issues, I’m more grateful than ever that we’ve kept our toolbox, so to speak, well-populated. In my work, I deal in a concept called “business continuity,” an idea that turns the negative connotations of redundancy and multiple back-ups on their heads and recasts them as necessary components of the organizational ecology. If I’ve learned nothing else this week, I realize that I’ve brought the concept home in a way that I hadn’t quite realized. This summer, more glass jars and freezer bags. I've got a system to back up!