Jam update: How I went wrong and a recipe for peach-plum jam

A while back I wrote about making blueberry jam with maple syrup and lemon zest, but I have learned much about jam-making since then and I must confess that I was wrong. The basic recipe is just fine, but it turns out my technique could use a lot of improvement.

Now, you ask me, "Tora, how did you find out you were wrong? What should we be doing differently?"

Well, about two weeks ago (I think it was two weeks ago), Mike, Sebastian, and I decided we would go to Borders and see if we could find anything good at the going-out-of-business sale. We don't usually pick over scraps of dying stores like vultures, but it's a book store. If there was a 10-step program for book addiction, we might be candidates for it.

As we looked around, Mike found a book that he thought I might like: The Blue Chair Jam Cookbook by Rachel Saunders. This charming, lovely book is probably all you will ever need to become a master jam/jelly/marmalade maker. It has gorgeous photos, lots of great information about techniques, and recipes that range from the utterly simply and sublime to the complex and sophisticated. And within about 10 minutes of sitting down to read, I discovered that I have been doing it wrong. So, let me explain my mistakes and pass on some of my new-found knowledge to you.

1. I've been using the wrong kind of pot. Ideally, you should use a copper pan that's 11 inches at the base, 15 inches at the rim, and 5 inches high with a 11- to 12-quart capacity. Now, copper pans are not currently in my budget, as dearly as I would love to have one. What I gleaned from this information is that I need a lot more surface area. So I broke out my stock pot, which is definitely deep enough and has a 10-inch diameter. Not perfect, but I've already gotten better results. (If anyone feels especially generous, a copper pan would be a much appreciated Christmas gift.)
2. I've been using the wrong application of heat. Instead of low and slow, I should be cooking this stuff hot and fast to keep as much of the fruit's flavor and texture intact. The correct way to do it is to heat the mixture of fruit and sugar slowly at first, just until it starts to bubble and release a lot of juice, and then crank up the heat to get it up to a pretty fierce boil. What you are trying to accomplish is a lot of evaporation (which explains why you need a lot of surface area in your pan). While it cooks, you need to keep stirring frequently, both to aid evaporation and to ensure that the jam doesn't stick to the bottom and burn. Note that this will be extremely messy.
3. My testing for doneness has a lot to be desired. Rachel Saunders suggests doing this instead: Place a saucer with five metal spoons in the freezer. When you are ready to test your jam for doneness, take your pot off the heat, transfer a small amount of jam to one of the frozen spoons and return it to the freezer for a minute or two. When the bottom of the spoon feels neither hot nor cold, inspect the sample in the spoon. It shouldn't run but sort of clump up in a jelly-like blob on the spoon. If it doesn't, discard test spoon 1 and put the pot back on the heat for another five minutes or so and test again. The cooking process for jam (there are differences for jelly and marmalade, so be aware of that) will take about 15-30 minutes tops. 
4. I like her method of preparing the jars for preservation, but I am still not completely sold on it. Usually, I would transfer jam to hot sterilized jars that I have boiled, place the lids on them, and boil them for another 15 minutes. She recommends sterilizing the washed jars in a 250-degree oven for at least 30 minutes, adding the jam, closing the jars, and placing them back in the oven for another 15 minutes. It's a lot easier method than boiling the jars, but so far, every batch I have made this way has had at least one jar that didn't seal. Of course, that means I get to try the jam right away, which is great, but it rankles a little bit. 
5. The last clear technique difference is her method of flavoring the jam with herbs. I like to wrap up my herbs in a piece of cheesecloth and let it boil in the jam, whereas she prefers to add sprigs and let them steep in the hot jam for a few minutes after cooking and then fish them out. I haven't made up my mind on this one yet. I tried her method, adding some basil to a recent batch of plum-peach jam after it had cooked, but although the basil was extraordinarily fragrant (from my garden!), I can't taste it in the jam at all. So I will probably experiment a bit more before making my decision one way or another. 

I've applied these modifications to three recent batches of jam—blackberry with lemon verbena, peach-plum with basil, and my blueberry with maple syrup and lemon—and I am definitely getting better results. The texture is better, the flavor is brighter, and the set is much better. I also love that I can get a jam in a lot less time. What's a bit of drag is that the yield seems to be a bit smaller, but I can live with that to get awesome jam. Here's a recipe for a jam experiment I tried with plums and peaches. The flavor is beautiful: bright, fruity, a little tangy, basically everything you get from a really good peach or plum eaten while dripping over a sink at the height of summer.  

Peach-plum jam with basil  

Yields about four eight-ounce jars 

• 500 grams peaches, peeled, cut into 1-inch pieces (discard the stones)
• 500 grams plums, cut into quarters (discard the stones) (any kind of plum will probably work for this, but I used red plums, which created a dark red jam; just be mindful that if you use, for example, greengages, the color may not be very pretty)
• 6 deciliters sugar
• juice from two lemons
• 4-5 basil stems (optional, but nice)

1. Background prep: Place a saucer with five metal spoons in the freezer, and sterilize your jars using whatever technique you prefer (keep them hot as you make the jam).
2. Layer the fruit and sugar in your jam pot (starting and ending with a layer of sugar).
3. Let the fruit-sugar mixture sit for at least an hour, up to overnight (refrigerate if you want to do this).
4. Add the lemon juice.
5. Heat the mixture slowly until the fruit produces a lot of juice, and it has started to bubble. 
6. Bring the heat up to high and stir continually to keep the jam from burning. Expect copious amounts of steam and a lot of spatter. If you have an apron, this would be a good time to wear it. (I really need to get one of those.)
7. Cook at high heat for about 15 minutes (skim off the foam).
8. Test for doneness: Take the pot off the heat, get a sample of jam from the pot and transfer it to a frozen spoon. Place the sample in the freezer for a minute or two. Touch the bottom of the spoon, if it's neither hot nor cold, it's time to inspect the doneness of the jam. It should not run, but be gelatinous. If it runs, put the jam back on the heat for another five minutes and test again. Keep testing until you reach doneness.
9. When the jam is done, take it off the heat and add your basil sprigs and let it sit for five to 10 minutes. Then remove the basil and pour the hot jam into your hot jars (be sure to leave at least an inch at the top) and sterilize them, using a hot water bath or oven as you prefer. 
10. When you let the jars cool, you will hear little popping noises as they create a vacuum seal. If one of the jars doesn't seal (you can tell if you can depress the lid with your finger and it pops up again), just let it cool and enjoy it right away. The rest will be good for several months. 

A note on cooling: Don't move jam around a lot while it cools. One of the things it does as it cools is creates a sort of lattice structure. If you disturb that structure while it's forming, the jam won't set very well (or possibly at all).

Update: Check out the National Center for Home Food Preservation for more information about keeping your jams and jellies safe. 

Lime-peach upside-down cake: The experiment

So. I did it. You know, the experiment? With the limes and the peaches and the cake and whatnot that I mentioned I wanted to try yesterday? Yeah, I made a lime-peach upside-down cake, and as you will see, the experience had its ups and downs.

So I started with my go-to recipe for all the upside-down cakes I make and then made some modifications.

I zested two limes.

I melted six tablespoons of butter in my cast-iron skillet slowly over low heat.

I added a cup of brown sugar to the butter in the pan.

I juiced the two limes and added the juice to the sugar and butter in the pan.

I added a tablespoon of honey to the sugar, butter, and lime juice in the pan.

Then I let the mixture simmer on low heat until the sauce thickened.

While the lime caramel simmered in the pan, I started on the batter. First I beat six tablespoons of softened butter in my stand mixer until it was creamy.

Then I added a cup of white sugar to the butter and beat that until it was creamy.

I added the lime zest (about one tablespoon) and two eggs to sugar and butter and once again beat it until it was creamy. (It's funny how hard we have to work over our food sometimes. I imagine the molecules with little black eyes. Oh boy. Don't mind me.) Then I added a half teaspoon of vanilla extract. (Usually I scrape the seeds out of half a vanilla bean, but I couldn't find any in the cupboard, which is always overflowing with spices, some of which I don't use because I bought them in the heat of excitement over something or other).

Then I mixed one and a half cups of all-purpose flour, two teaspoons of baking powder, and a quarter teaspoon of salt in a bowl and measured out a half cup of milk. I proceeded to alternate adding milk and flour mixture to eggs, butter, sugar, etc. in the bowl. (About three measures of each and at low speed, otherwise the flour will fly up into a cloud and make you look like an old man, which is of course not a problem if you are an old man, but I am not yet, so I avoid it.)

The next step was to add the peaches to the caramel mixture in the pan. (I used frozen peach slices left from last year--there were about two peaches worth in the bag. The texture of the peaches was pretty mushy, so I would recommend fresh peaches or other fruit.)

I poured the batter on top of the peaches. Poured is generous, more like scraped and smeared. This batter is not runny, and it's not supposed to be. Try to spread it evenly over the fruit and caramel in the pan. (By the way, if you don't have a cast-iron pan, you can do this in an eight-inch cake pan. Just start your caramel in a thick-bottomed pan on the stove and then pour it into your cake pan. However, I think that you should run out and get a cast-iron pan; they are cheap, last forever, and incredibly wonderful to work with if you get a good season on them. Like now. Go. Run. I will wait for you.)

Put the pan into a 350-degree oven and set the timer for one hour and five minutes. Now, if you use eggs that you can trust, gorge yourself on every last morsel of batter that you can scrape out of the bowl. I literally made some kind of grunting Neanderthal noise while trying to shove my face into the bowl (with little success) to get every last molecule of this batter. It's that good. No. Really. Trust me on this.

OK, when the timer went off an hour and a half later I pulled the cake out of the oven (it turned out a little darker than usual, I probably should have pulled it out a little earlier). I placed the whole pan on a rack to rest for 30 minutes. Dum de dum de dum de dum. Twiddling fingers. Pacing.

Finally, it was time for the great reveal. I scraped around the edges of the cake with a butter knife to loosen it, and holding a plate on top of the pan, I flipped it over. I pulled up the pan. Nothing on the plate but a couple of crumbs. Hm. OK. Scrape around the edges again. Do the flip thing again, and, don't laugh, the thing comes out in big broken chunks.

Damn! Typical! I have made this cake so many times, and it has come out beautifully every time. The one time I want to show it off to the world, it turns out a big mess. Oh well. It tastes great. I am pretty sure it turned out such a disaster because the fruit was so mushy. If I had used fresh peaches (and perhaps more of them), it would have been beautiful.

Notes on the source recipe: For this recipe I eliminated the cinnamon that is usually added to the flour mixture. I didn't think that lime and cinnamon would be a happy combination. I also added lime juice to the caramel mixture. When I make this recipe with other fruits, I generally follow the recipe as is, minus the almond extract. I like almonds, but I've got a thing about almond extract and other almond-scented stuff. It just gives me the willies. I know, weird, right. Well, everyone has their hangups. I also detest celery and do all I can to avoid it.

Food I want to make

I have a huge craving for sweets at the moment, which is a bit weird, I don't usually crave them so ferociously. I am also too exhausted to make anything, and the thought of getting some kind of candy bar or something is actually kind of repugnant (guess I must not be craving sweets that much).

So I was daydreaming about what I might be able to make with what I have. I think I may have some chocolate, but somehow the season doesn't say "chocolate" to me. I've got a bag of organic limes and some frozen peaches left over from last summer (I don't hit the farmers market until Saturday when I will get fruit, fruit, sweet fruit). Because, as I have said, I am too tired to stand in a kitchen and beat butter (I can't even bear the thought of standing by the stand mixer while it beats butter), I am just going to have to hold on until tomorrow, when I am going to try to invent some kind of peach upside-down cake with a lime glaze. I think it will be good. I hope it will be good. Mostly, I think it will be a lot of fun to try. I love making upside-down cakes in my cast iron skillet.

While I was moaning on Facebook about craving lime-y treats, a friend recommended the key lime pie from Joe's Stone Crab (she's a food writer, so she ought to know about all kinds of deliciousness). I looked it up; I could order a pie for nearly $70 (a teeny tiny bit out of my price range) OR I could try this recipe, which I plan to do in the near future. I really want to try inventing my cake first though.

Another food notion that popped into my head was creating the perfect tomato pie. I am not sure what my criteria for perfection are yet, which will of course have an effect on said perfect pie. Obviously, no sog factor in the crust. Ew. The addition of some herbs and cheese would likely be nice, but which ones? Some experimentation may be in order. Also, I love fresh summer tomatoes (I mean who doesn't really?), but I think I want the tomatoes to feel almost dry like a sun-dried tomato. So, once the tomatoes start to hit, I may need to test some variations.
 
Oh yes, another thing I want to try: Different kinds of pesto. Obviously regular basil pesto is absolutely lovely and freezes nicely, letting you keep that fresh basil flavor all winter or at least as long as the pesto lasts, which may not be that long. But I also want to try making it with cilantro and pepitas. And I have heard that arugula and walnuts can be good. I recently "discovered" arugula and would love to use it more. What else might work? If you have ideas, let me know.

Of course, pasta is something I want to take on at some point. Given how important eating local and minimally processed foods is to me, I have to say I find it a tad embarrassing to buy any food in a box. I mean, it happens, of course, I am only human and I still live in a country with grocery stores, but I do tend to experience a twinge of shame even when I get a box of organic pasta. What I really want to try is this giant noodle. Looks like so much fun! I also want to try coloring pasta with beets, carrots, spinach, and whatever else I can think of because I completely, totally, absolutely adore color.

Generally I think I am a pretty good cook, but I find myself motivated to refine my skills. To pay more attention to nuances and the effects of taste and texture that I am trying to achieve.

Tune in tomorrow (or perhaps Saturday) to find out how the lime-glazed peach upside-down cake turns out.

Oh and to add a little eye candy to this post, here's a little something I drew today. It's after a photo of juvenile red-shouldered hawk. I made some mistakes while drawing it, but it's not too bad. I am trying to work on improving my drawing and painting skills as well.

  
Oh, and I made mayo today, but with a twist. (We had some leftover grilled chicken and I wanted to make sandwiches.) Instead of using lemon juice in the mayo recipe I use, I substituted lime juice, which turned out really well. I also reduced the oil by a quarter cup, with no discernible ill effects. I think I am going to try to reduce it some more and see how much low I can go.