Preserving a family tradition

As a child I loved visiting my English grandparents living on the edge of the South Downs, my brother and I sharing the small back bedroom overlooking a corn field. Weekends and half terms meant hours on pebbly beaches braving the cold sea, exploring hedgerows and fields, watching in fascination as my grandfather shaved his chin (and wondering why he didn't shave his back which was so much hairier). My grandmother introduced us to many traditional English classics, steak and kidney pudding, big hearty stews, English tea on a trolley in front of the fire, our plates heavy with home cooked ham sandwiches, cakes and biscuits. Our bedroom also housed the airing cupboard, shelves stacked with towels and flannelette sheets warmed by the hot water tank. Above the linen, a high shelf (so high you needed to perch precariously on the squishy mattress to reach it) housed a hidden treasure of jam jars. All neatly labelled in my grandmothers spidery writing and sealed with cellophane covers stretched drum skin tight. Occasionally we were tasked to fetch one of these jars down at breakfast time and choose from strawberry, gooseberry, blackcurrant, blackberry, raspberry jam or Seville orange marmalade, searching for our choice of sweet conserve amongst a crowd of dark and spicy chutneys. I remember emptying this shelf when my grandmother, many years a widow had to move into a home due to illness. How each jar and it's handwritten label denoting the content and year (some quite vintage) brought back memories of happy carefree summers. This tradition of preserving has obviously struck a cord as my father spends many an hour over the preserving pan as do my brother and I. Every Christmas, we exchange a small selection of jars in a variety of shapes with some good humoured banter on techniques and methods.

This year's selection includes raspberry and redcurrant jam, bramble jelly and tomato chutney (from my father) and rosehip and apple jelly (from my brother). I have to note that the attention to labelling appears to be lost amongst the menfolk and often jars are unidentified and their contents become somewhat of a surprise later in the year. Jellies in particular, proving quite hard to identify without the clue of seeds. The bramble jelly I have already sampled and is fantastically tart and fruity.

In return, I offered a few jars of strawberry conserve (the strawberries painstaking picked by hand in early summer so I could ensure small fruit to preserve whole) and marrow and ginger jam (using the very large courgettes grown by my father). Vegetable jams were commonplace in more straightened times and this jam is really very good. I used this recipe from BBC Good Food and it is something you should definitely try. It occurred to me whilst writing this post that I have rarely eaten shop bought jam or chutney in my life so far, there has always been a plentiful supply at home and long may this continue!