I’ve been informed that in my first weekend back east, I’ve been invited to Thomaston, ME to visit with the side of my family I refer to as the “city mice.”
Maine in late summer means one thing, dank blueberries. Consider this a promise to try some canning tips I’ve accumulated through my travails throughout decades of Better Homes cookbooks. You see, before globalization and the proliferation of the New World Order we just didn’t have berries in the store throughout the year. What the old folks would do is can and preserve them in the summer so the chilluns could get delicious pectin all year round.
Upon arriving at school in Oregon we were greeted with a display of local flavors. One of them was a Marionberry cobbler or something. I found it hilarious because of this 90’s pop culture gem. To this day, I feel that I’m the only one getting yucks from this, even a google search of “Marion Barry lol” was, forgive the pun, unfruitful.
Moral of the story, is canning is in, in a big way. Buying local means that, just like the pilgrims, we can’t go around eating berries in the middle of winter, or most fruits in general. So, here in California, that means preserving some strawberries, cherries and then taking the goods back east and recreating that magic with Maine blueberries. It’s just too bad that Blueberries For Sal didn’t come with a jam recipe.
I’ll be taking the next two days off so that I can get out to Beantown and get settled. My “Save a Suit” diet has me rolling on peanut butter + honey sandwiches and water. Between the food, the living situation and some ho contentions I’m really looking forward to Massachusetts.
Afterthought, LOL at my tag cloud. TO LIFE