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Aug. 28th, 2004 08:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickI was up until 3 am fixing the cousin's computer (XP service pack 2, if you are planning to take the plunge, takes about forever to install. We had a cablemodem for download, so that was not the holdup). She called back for another two hours this AM, last minute fixing of things (norton liveupdate kept trying to dial up, odd new security shit with SP2, removal of weatherbug, etc.) and went away happy. She promised (again, just like she did last year) to call me before letting anyone else touch the computer. *sigh*
On a lighter note, I went to get Roy's grapes and did get as many of Roy's grapes as I felt like picking. One of the highlights of not really being a subsistence-farming pioneer woman is that I only have to make as much grape jelly as I feel like making. I'm not actually making the stuff because I need it to get through the winter. The green grapes, nicely ripe and sweet, were fine for eating out-of-hand, but... insipid. The grape *flavor*, the foxy bite that tastes like grapes and fall, the part that is worth pursuing in grape jelly... they didn't have that. Hrm.
Now, making jelly is an assload of work. I was getting discouraged by the minute, but then my brother Joe called to tell me that John Kerry is an anagram for Horny Jerk. Seriously. That was the point of the phone call. Joe and I agreed that Kerry's hair would be more annoying to look at than four more years of George W's ears. I told him about the green grapes which, through no fault of their own, were not particularly suited to being jelly. Joe suggested the gentlemanly art of fermentation might suit them better. Hrm.
After that cheeful little discussion, I called La's house for moral support. I got La's mom because La wasn't home. When I started to tell her about the green grapes and the performance failure of our Concord vines, La's mom interrupted me to note that THEIR vine was "doing all right" and "looked pert close to ripe" and she allowed as how if I'd get over there, I could maybe see what I could make of them. From Liss, who is a habitual understater, "doing all right" means something on the close order of "our grape vine is producing quantities of grapes like you have never seen, endless clusters of symmetrical, tapered perfection, each hanging just-so in the golden light that filters through the leaves." Right.
A five-gallon-bucket full of gorgeous, perfectly-ripe Concord grapes later, I was at the grocery getting a second five-pound-bag of sugar, some canning jar lids, and some more pectin (makes the stuff set up). I went home. I picked the grapes off the bunches. I mashed the grapes (potato masher and colander). I heated the mashed grapes and got that juice. I measured the juice and made jelly. One five-gallon bucket level full of grapes, twenty-one cups of sugar, and three boxes of fruit pectin make thirteen pints of concord grape jelly. Just, y'know, in case you wind up with a five-gallon bucket of grapes someday.
The only thing I do differently than the directions on the pectin packets is that I generate my grape juice entirely and completely without added water. They tell you to start with grapes and to ADD 1 1/2 cups of water to your grapes. You're supposed to come up with 5 cups of juice, and that looks to me like, right there, the damn stuff is MORE THAN 20% WATER. Okay, the water you're using is water that has been touching grapes, and it's purple and stuff, but wouldn't the whole business taste BETTER if the juice was *all* from the grapes without any water added? (This was my theory that I tested out last year.)
Yes. It tastes an order of magnitude better, more grapey, more foxy, and more all-around-yummy if you use all grapes without any added water. The no-water-added method takes many more grapes than the method on the box, though, and that's probably why they don't tell you about it on the box. Most people want a better yield than is possible with the no-water-added method. Also, if you're considering entering your local fair or whatever, the jelly I get this way is cloudy, not sparkling clear. (The yield for sparkling-clear, no-water-added grape jelly is pretty damn minimal and the cloudy thing doesn't bother me.) People who judge preserves at fairs and things look for sparkling-clear. They will not be impressed with this method.
Anyway. It turns out that I didn't make jelly out of the green grapes. They're in my fridge while I contemplate my next move. Instead, I made jelly out of beautiful Concord grapes, ones that were sweet and foxy and just the way they're supposed to be. And purple.
On a lighter note, I went to get Roy's grapes and did get as many of Roy's grapes as I felt like picking. One of the highlights of not really being a subsistence-farming pioneer woman is that I only have to make as much grape jelly as I feel like making. I'm not actually making the stuff because I need it to get through the winter. The green grapes, nicely ripe and sweet, were fine for eating out-of-hand, but... insipid. The grape *flavor*, the foxy bite that tastes like grapes and fall, the part that is worth pursuing in grape jelly... they didn't have that. Hrm.
Now, making jelly is an assload of work. I was getting discouraged by the minute, but then my brother Joe called to tell me that John Kerry is an anagram for Horny Jerk. Seriously. That was the point of the phone call. Joe and I agreed that Kerry's hair would be more annoying to look at than four more years of George W's ears. I told him about the green grapes which, through no fault of their own, were not particularly suited to being jelly. Joe suggested the gentlemanly art of fermentation might suit them better. Hrm.
After that cheeful little discussion, I called La's house for moral support. I got La's mom because La wasn't home. When I started to tell her about the green grapes and the performance failure of our Concord vines, La's mom interrupted me to note that THEIR vine was "doing all right" and "looked pert close to ripe" and she allowed as how if I'd get over there, I could maybe see what I could make of them. From Liss, who is a habitual understater, "doing all right" means something on the close order of "our grape vine is producing quantities of grapes like you have never seen, endless clusters of symmetrical, tapered perfection, each hanging just-so in the golden light that filters through the leaves." Right.
A five-gallon-bucket full of gorgeous, perfectly-ripe Concord grapes later, I was at the grocery getting a second five-pound-bag of sugar, some canning jar lids, and some more pectin (makes the stuff set up). I went home. I picked the grapes off the bunches. I mashed the grapes (potato masher and colander). I heated the mashed grapes and got that juice. I measured the juice and made jelly. One five-gallon bucket level full of grapes, twenty-one cups of sugar, and three boxes of fruit pectin make thirteen pints of concord grape jelly. Just, y'know, in case you wind up with a five-gallon bucket of grapes someday.
The only thing I do differently than the directions on the pectin packets is that I generate my grape juice entirely and completely without added water. They tell you to start with grapes and to ADD 1 1/2 cups of water to your grapes. You're supposed to come up with 5 cups of juice, and that looks to me like, right there, the damn stuff is MORE THAN 20% WATER. Okay, the water you're using is water that has been touching grapes, and it's purple and stuff, but wouldn't the whole business taste BETTER if the juice was *all* from the grapes without any water added? (This was my theory that I tested out last year.)
Yes. It tastes an order of magnitude better, more grapey, more foxy, and more all-around-yummy if you use all grapes without any added water. The no-water-added method takes many more grapes than the method on the box, though, and that's probably why they don't tell you about it on the box. Most people want a better yield than is possible with the no-water-added method. Also, if you're considering entering your local fair or whatever, the jelly I get this way is cloudy, not sparkling clear. (The yield for sparkling-clear, no-water-added grape jelly is pretty damn minimal and the cloudy thing doesn't bother me.) People who judge preserves at fairs and things look for sparkling-clear. They will not be impressed with this method.
Anyway. It turns out that I didn't make jelly out of the green grapes. They're in my fridge while I contemplate my next move. Instead, I made jelly out of beautiful Concord grapes, ones that were sweet and foxy and just the way they're supposed to be. And purple.
