End of the Summer, Canning Concord Grape Jelly, Kitchen Pottery
Sometimes my brain thinks in haikus, and sometimes I take an impromptu day off to can Concord grapes that my lovely wife harvested from the vine outside her massage office. Oh, the joys of being a self-employed artist in Asheville! This month’s post is entirely dedicated to the process of making grape jelly, canning it, and then eating it on homemade bread. Plus, I used some of my favorite pottery while doing all of this. With our next online shop update coming September 28th, you could get yourself a new mixing bowl or colander to dress up your next cooking adventure too.
Two thick slices of homemade toast with grape jelly, on a handmade plate by Jamie Ross
Here are the recipes I used:
I was able to take a canning class at my local hardware store just a couple of weeks before I got myself started on this project. This was at the Ace Hardware on Merrimon Ave, and it was free! I found out about it because I drove past their sign the day prior, but check around on Facebook to find one in your area. That experience definitely gave me the confidence I needed to jump in, and they also gave me a coupon to get all the essential supplies too. What you really need is:
a large pot to boil the jars and give your canned jelly a water bath
a second pot to make the jelly in
an instant-read thermometer for checking the water temperature
a food mill to separate the seeds and skins (or you can use a cheesecloth hung over a bowl for about 12 hours)
I used our Spouted Mixing Bowls
a ladle
a funnel
sterilized jars
new lids, and clean bands
a jar rack (or a small cooling rack that fits into your large pot) so your jars aren’t resting on the bottom of the pot
jar tongs
clean towels
Grapes covered in water, ready to become juice
It all starts with soaking some grapes
I’m not a food blog and won’t share every detail of the grape jelly recipe. I just followed the one linked above, and everything came out great. But here are some of the highlights:
Freshly made Concord grape juice in one of our spouted mixed bowls. This is after the grapes went through the food mill. Notice how tiny my stove is! I am a firm believer in starting wherever you are, and even if you’re in an efficiency apartment like me, you can still make your own jelly.
A boiling pot of jelly, plus one of our smaller spouted mixing bowls in the back that I used to rest the ladle in.
My jars and parts are staying warm in the sterilizing bath, ready to be pulled out with tongs once the jelly is ready.
The canning process was so much easier than I expected. Here are some tips from a novice:
Your jars are supposed to release little air bubbles when you put them in the water bath! When I saw this happening, I was sure I had ruined the jelly. But that’s all the potentially harmful, bacteria-filled air being forced out of the jar, so afterwards, your jelly can live happily on the shelf for months to come.
Another tip: don’t play around with the recipe. Jelly recipes call for a heck of a lot of sugar, but that’s being used as a preservative. Using less to fit in with your lower-sugar cravings could actually make the jelly spoil.
Every recipe I’ve read around canning calls for paper towels. As a person who doesn’t keep single-use items like that around very much, just know you can do without. I used freshly clean kitchen towels just like people have for decades, and everything came out fine.
A couple jars of grape jelly, cooled and ready to live on a shelf. They look pretty cute next to one of our small jars (perfect for salt), but they didn’t last long here. I ended up giving away all but two jars because I was so excited to share my first canning experience with so many friends! This morning, I broke open my first jar to pair it with the yummy bread I baked yesterday. Such a great start to a workday, and an experience I’ll be cherishing for a long time.
Do you have a recent cooking adventure you were really excited about? I’d honestly love to hear about it! Feel free to send me an email, and go ahead and send along any recipes too.
Until next time,
Meg Ross
