Annie the Jam Maker

More proof of the type of babe I married is in the jam. I developed a taste for gooseberry when I did my first German trip in Southern Germany. It is sweet, but there is a tartness that doesn't make the jam overpowering. I would pay $3 or more for a bottle in Germany, and then after returning home, I would stash it in a corner of the fridge where I thought no one would find it. Weeks later I would rant and rave about how the jam seemed to evaporate, yet not a single person would own up to the fact they were using "my jam."

This past summer we were on the road a lot. We spent at least two weeks in Minnesota and a week in Washington D.C. at meetings for my Holocaust Museum work. It was upsetting for me, because I only had a few bottles of gooseberry jam in the basement left from last year, but then we visited the Farmer's Market in late July. The vendor, who earlier in the season promised some berries, told me that he would have some for me when we returned. I ordered two flats.

It is a miracle that Ann didn't smother me with a pillow during the night over this ordeal. The process took three days. There were two flats, and the cups were very large. The worst part of the whole deal was making sure that there were no stems, but then at the bottom of each berry is this little thing too. Both had to be plucked from each individual berry. Ann did not complain even once. (Well maybe she did one time.) Each of the three days found us stemming berries in the morning and waiting until evening when the house cooled to begin making the jam.

We filled the fridge with berries to ensure that they would not be too ripe. I do not remember how expensive we figured each bottle was, given the high cost of sugar and $60 for the two flats of berries, but I do know that it is much cheaper than what I paid years ago for a half pint at $3 a bottle. And the taste of our jam is much better too.

We now have 44 bottles of gooseberry jam to add to those we had left from last year. When I told Cles, he finally admitted to knowing how the German jam I always stashed evaporated. It appears that my three children also like gooseberry jam too, so I am sure we have plenty for everyone now. We just need to figure a way to get it to them.