Home, Home with the Range

Crabapple blossoms. Life is good, right?

I just wanted an excuse to put this pretty picture on my blog. Aren't crabapple trees beautiful? You would never know that I took this picture in front of the Goodwill store by all the malls and big box stores in my area. Is it obvious to say that there is beauty everywhere?

This post, though, is about my new gas range. I must admit I was a bit flummoxed by the terminology while getting the first, new range I've ever had in my life. I've never called it a "range." I've called it a stove, or an oven. But not a range. Another thing I have learned in my somewhat surface research was that there are ranges out there that have a setting for "chicken tenders." Lord, help us.

The Ol' Tappan.

 My old range was a good sort. I got used to it's small oven and finicky igniters and oven temperatures, but when the thermostat really blew, we had to call it quits. I had always wanted a big, super deluxe commercial oven, but I couldn't lay out the cash to buy one that was worth it. When I thought about it, though, it was okay, because it wouldn't go with my awesome late 80's kitchen. It's amazing that the one room I spend most of my waking hours in is really sort of bummy. It's very dark, and the overhead light fixture is horrible and florescent. The lay out is counterintuitive; the last time it was redesigned they moved everything to a spot that was not originally intended. Let's not even talk about the cabinets. And, there's no window over the sink. That just makes me sad. But I've learned to live with it.

New blood: the Kenmore 72333

With the help of a bunch of the good people who gather to chat on my Facebook page (join in!) and my pal, Shae from Hitchhiking to Heaven, who also recently bought a new range, I gathered a bunch of information, and decided on this one. I think I fretted over the new range more than a car. The people at Sears got used to me dropping by and trying to look at ranges while clutching my son, who was way more interested in running amok. In the end, I got the most basic thing I could find that was reasonably priced with these amenities: all stainless steel (because black is a pain to keep clean--though the same has been said about stainless steel), a turbo boil (the instruction manual has a "home canning" section!), and a convection capable oven (I really got sick of burning cookies).

I must admit, I am scared of all the digital stuff, but hopefully--fingers crossed--we'll get along, this new range and I. All I need now is my new Le Creuset French oven, which should be en route as I write, and I'll be all set for the new jamming season!

Another gratuitous flower shot. Who can resist? It's spring, dammit!

Paradise Jelly

This month's Tigress' Can Jam is the second to last month of the year-long jam! Cosmic Cowgirl (also of Confituras fame) gave us the pick of pomes, that is, apples, pears and quinces. Phew! What would the jam be without those guys? And, being both a quince and jelly fanatic, I decided to do a quince jelly. But not just any quince jelly. This is Paradise Jelly, my friends. I've been eyeballing this recipe that I've adapted from the Joy of Cooking for a while now.

Clockwise from top right: crabapple, lingonberry, quince.

It's an old school recipe that combines apples, quinces and cranberries. I used crabapples, quinces and lingonberries, otherwise known as low-bush cranberries—a wild Alaskan gift from the ever-generous Shae of Hitchhiking to Heaven. It's the most beautiful jelly I've ever made, as all three fruit add to the rosy hue, and the name is certainly fitting.

The married juices with some crabapples in the background.

Paradise Jelly

adapted from The Joy of Cooking

makes 4 to 5 half-pint jars

The basic method is to extract the juice from all the fruits separately, because they have such different cooking times.

3 pounds of crabapples

3 cups of water

Cut the crabapples in half, removing the blossom end and stems. Combine with water and bring to a boil, simmering gently for about thirty minutes. Strain. Reserve juice.*

1 1/2 pounds quinces

3 1/2 cups water

Cut the quinces coarsely in chunks. Add water and bring to a boil, simmer for about thirty minutes. The longer you cook them the more pink they will get. Don't use a high heat. Strain. Reserve juice.*

8 ounces of lingonberries (or cranberries)

3/4 cup of water

Bring to a boil, strain and reserve juice.**

*My next post will be about incorporating the pulp of these fruits into a great preserve. Food mill them and stash them in the fridge.

** See this post on what to do with this fruit pulp.

Combine all the juices. You will have about five cups of liquid. Measure four cups of juice, and add three cups of sugar. I froze the last cup for addition into a jam or jelly. It is high in pectin—all three fruits are pectin rich—and will serve well as a pectin stock.

Now proceed as with any jelly. Bring to a boil, and continue at high heat until the jelling point is reached. This is 22o degrees using a candy thermometer. You want to be familiar with the jelling stages though, as the temperature is never a sure indicator of a gel. Jelly is temperamental, but not entirely mysterious. Trying an apple jelly first to see what will happen is always a good starting point. It won't set you back financially, or emotionally!

You should have your jars boiling away in the water bath. Jelly making is an instance where you want the jars sterilized (boiled for at least ten minutes) so you can process them for only five minutes. If you process your jelly for ten minutes, you may lose the set you worked so hard for by cooking it away. That's why processing times are shorter for jelly.

Is there anything better than warm, fresh bread with butter and jelly?

In my opinion, it was so worth the extra work! This would be a gorgeous glaze for turkey or duck, I think. And as a tart glaze, of course, like so many jellies. But we like it straight up on some homemade bread with butter, just fine, thank you very much! (Though I think some little toddlers around here would be fine eating it right off the spoon!)