I feel fortunate, in that I feel I’ve reached a point where I more or less know what I’m doing. Certainly, I have my moments of doubt- I still get a little fuzzy when it comes to ordering a pig, because I’m still not entirely clear on the cuts, and could probably do with some research on that account. When I went to pick our very first harvest of cauliflower, I was fairly unclear, because I’ve never grown it before, and for the life of me I couldn’t tell if it was ready or not (still not entirely sure???).
But at the end of the day I’ve got it down. Eight (nine?) years ago I started working on a farm in the summers, and I started learning what to do with all the bounty. When I talk to someone who is new to this sort of thing, particularly someone who is not crazy, I always tell them to start by canning a few jars of tomatoes. It’s relatively simple, it’s hard to mess up, and there are always more tomatoes (well, except for the past two years, which have been wet and seem to be somewhat anti tomato). These days it’s like, oh, it’s this week? Better do such and such. Though I have an odd sense that there’s more I’m supposed to be doing, only I can’t put my finger on what. I think I’m jumping the gun a bit, and thinking I should be canning tomatoes at this point- only, as I said, another lousy tomato year seems to be in the works.
The funny thing about canning is this: at times you find yourself canning things you have no particular intention of eating. As I mentioned the other day, farm to table means using what’s around. For example: last year I went to pick peaches with a friend. I don’t even like peaches. In fact I particularly dislike the flavor of peaches, even the smell. But there were peaches to be had. And so I canned peach salsa, which is tolerable, because it tastes more like hot peppers, and because I can give it away for gifts. But I also canned peaches, with the intention of making pies for people who like peaches. Guess who hasn’t bothered with making peach pies? Yeah.
I inventory our canned and frozen foods twice a year- once about April (or June) to see what’s left from the previous year, and once in November to see what we’ve accomplished. This year when I did inventory I realized we had more pickles than anyone in their right mind should have. Than a one person pickle eating household should ever possess (did I mention I also dislike pickles? Even more than I dislike peaches). Why do we have all these pickles? I guess we just went a little crazy- there were piles of cucumbers, and what does one do with piles of cucumbers? You make pickles. That’s about it.
But we also had peaches, and apples, and soups, and BBQ sauces, and strange and sundry things I had looked up in the canning book when faced with piles of produce and thought, hm, sure, I’ll make that.
It’s the one real flaw in the putting up your own food process (well, aside from the late nights and crazy amounts of time). Sometimes you make things you don’t actually want to eat. It perplexes me, because there are plenty of things I do want to eat, and don’t seem to have time to make. I’d like to harvest our oregano, for example, and dry it and put it up for use in the non summer months of the year. But I never seem to get around to it. But I did manage to find time to make a strawberry chutney that I not only have no particular intention of using, but in fact probably messed up so it’s not even usable. Go figure.
There are many things I wish we made ourselves, so I could stop buying them. I read something the other day about a woman who stopped going to the grocery store, I mean really stopped, for a whole year. And I think what I buy at the grocery store, and really I could make a lot of those things. Bread. Pasta. I have the means to do so- I just never seem to have the time. Even though last year I made peach BBQ sauce that we’ve never used…
There will always be things I either can’t make or am not going to take the time to make. I’m pretty sure I can’t make salt. We’re not in the right area. I would one day like to build some kind of hothouse for lemons and limes so we can grow those and therefore not need to buy lemon or lime juices. But in the meantime. I’m never going to make soy sauce. Or (probably) grow curry. We don’t have the space (or time) for a cow or other milk producing animal, and I’m a complete failure at making cheese, so that’s something. Same for meats, and grains. I’m not trying to grow every single thing I eat, really, but I do wish I could avoid the grocery store, which only seems to get more excessively expensive with every visit (whereas we just bought half a pig for less than a few grocery bills).
I may be adept at canning tomatoes and green beans and jams without even reading the recipe, but there are some things I still need to work on. Balance. Balancing out needing to use up the gigantic pile of whatever on the kitchen table (cucumbers) with what we might actually use (bread). Figuring out what else I can make, instead of buying. Using my own herb garden, which is always sorely neglected. These things take time, I realize. And when I look back at the way I was eating not so long ago, I have made enormous strides.
It just annoys me to go to the grocery store. And to have so many jars of pickles. But what else can you do?