In two jams: apricot and greengage

Ciao ragazzi. Annalena has been away from her blog, hasn't she? Well, yes, she's been a bit occupied with many things, including shaking the dust of an organization she loves from her feet, moving on, and so many other things. Also, much of what I've been making at this time of the year is a repeat of what I made at this time last year, so you'll just have to look back.
HOWEVER, Annalena has her "spells" every now and then, and she had a spell of jam making, inspired in large part from her favorite David Lebovitz. David posted an entry on his blog (www.davidlebovitz.com. You should ALL be reading it and being jealous), on making apricot jam.

Now, David is responsible for getting me to make jam again. Earlier this year, he posted a recipe for making sour cherry jam. It was DAYUM good. And he has a recipe for marmalade. Also superb. So, as apricot season was waning away (and I WAS warned by the farmers, but did I listen??? Hmmmmm???? ), I bought a whole bunch of them - about 8 pounds. These were not in the best shape one could imagine, but I bought them fully intending to make jam. And I did.

I like David's approach, because he does not advocate making tons of the stuff. Nor does he push for storing it long term. The recipe I will give you will yield about 12 cups of jam, which is perfect for having it in the house and for giving as gifts.

Apricots you know. How many of you know "greengages?" SUE, PUT DOWN YOUR HAND. There's no extra credit on this one, sorry. Okay, you insist, well, who wrote the book "Greengage Summer?" (no internet research here). It's a wonderful novel by the quirky, cult favorite, Rumer Goden, most famous for her novels "In this House of Brede" (made into a wonderful tv movie with the equally wonderful Diana Rigg, playing a woman who enters a convent late in life. Sounds good to me), as well as "Black Narcissus," about a convent of nuns in the Himalyas. The luminiscent Deborah Kerr is in this one, and you will learn the wonderful line "It's the wind, sisters, the wind," as an excuse for anything that goes wrong.

Ok, enough of the artistic digression. Greengages are plums. They are very favorite by British, and they are not well known here, but should be. Their texture is drier than the standard plums you know (which are Asian in origin), and they have a tarter edge. Their season is short. In fact, it should be ending just about now: 10 days after it started. If you can get to the market and get some, get your fill.

So, how do you make these jams? Well, it's by proportion. Weigh your fruit. Try to use at least 3 pounds, because it will make proportioning easier, and if you're only going to make four cups of jam (which is about what two pounds will yield), well, wait for a friend to make some and give some to you.

However many pounds of fruit you use, weigh out 3/4 of that amount of sugar. And measure a half cup of water for every 2 pounds of fruit you use.

Now, cut the fruit in half, or quarters, and of course, remove the pits. Put it in a big pot, with the water, and cover the pot. Cook this at medium heat, until the fruit gets very soft and begins to fall apart. Probably, you'll need about 15 minutes. When y ou get there, pour in the sugar. Lower the heat. This is important because you're going to be stirring the sugar to make it dissolve, the jam to be is going to hiss and spatter, and it burns badly. Also, the jam is going to foam up and if it's going too fast, you will burn sugar all over your stove. Finally, you can easily create an inch of char on your pot if you cook this too hard. I did that with the cherry jam.

So, cook this at a leisurely pace. And be prepared to wait. You will be amazed. You will reach the boiling point very quickly, but getting to the temperature you need, which is 220, is going to take a half hour or so. I recommend using a thermometer for this, but if you don't have one, I would say to keep your eye on it, stir it every five minutes or so, and after 25 minutes or so, ask yourself if it looks like "liquid jam." I wish I could give you a better guide for this. There is a trick for putting the stuff on a frozen plate and seeing how it acts, but it never works for me.

Now, if you make the greengage jam, at this point, you may think you've failed and scorched it, because that beautiful pale color has gone to brownish red.

NOPE. You did it perfectly. That's how it colors. Your apricot jam will be a brililant, vibrant orange with a tinge of yellow in it. With those two colors, how could you not serve them side by side?

Have your jars ready and fill them when the jam is still hot. The jam will firm up a bit on standing, but not so much. Just close the jars, find your good friends, and share. And then make some toast for breakfast the next morning, maybe even a toasted baguette. Spread some good butter on the bread, put on some jam, and eat like Parisians do. They say French people don't get fat, so I guess you will have to restrain yourself on the butter, but hey, breakfast IS the most important meal of the day.

The apricot jam, in fact, either one of them, will serve you well for the winter. Use it to glaze meat, or to glaze pies, tarts, etc, etc, etc. You know what to do, just get to it. You might even make a traditional Italian jam tart, since you WILL get tired of using winter fruit during the winter, and you'll want a taste of summer.