Welcome to the Canvolution

You say you want a Canvolution?

A few months ago, the ridiculous yet continuously inspiring thing that is Twitter sprouted yet another movement: The Canvolution. Essentially, one person asked if others were interested in learning more about canning and the art of “putting food by.” The response from all corners was resoundingly positive, and the result was a summer and fall full of classes, events and blogging on canning and preserving. The Canning Across America homepage has more details, and mastermind Kim O’Donnel has blogged about the Canvolution’s full history.

I got involved because I was also curious to learn more. I know little about canning myself, so my paltry contribution to the effort was to organize the group email list. I have canned before, though — when I was about 8, I went over to my aunt Maureen’s house and we spent several hours canning peaches and tomatoes. So this summer, when I wanted to revisit canning, I cornered Maureen and told her I wanted to learn at the feet of the master.

“Sure!” she said. “What do you want to do? Blackberry jam? Peaches? Pears? Tomatoes?” I lost track at that point. Suffice to say, the Canvolution was in full swing.

Millions of peaches, peaches for me

On a rainy Sunday about a week ago, we finally made it over to her house in Ballard. While Maureen and her husband Don grow some fruit and vegetables in their garden, to get enough peaches for canning they bought a few boxes worth. We decided to make some regular canned peaches and some with Cognac and schnapps. Maureen said my newfound enthusiasm inspired her to “get creative” and raid the liquor cabinet.

While my teenage cousin Mariah provided adolescent commentary (“Mom, why do you always take the jars out of the oven without mitts? What is wrong with you?”) Maureen walked us through the process. First, she sterilized the jars in the dishwasher and then kept them in a hot oven while preparing the fruit. She had three kettles boiling, one for processing the cans, one for scalding the peaches, and one of sugar water for the syrup.

Jeremy's a pro at this already

We dunked the peaches in the boiling water for a minute or two, then dunked them in an ice bath. That helped the skin slide right off. We cut the peaches in halves or quarters, depending on the type, and then put them into the syrup.

After they had cooked in the syrup, we grabbed the sterilized jar and slipped the peaches into it. Then we filled them to the brim with the rest of the syrup, put the lids on, and popped them into the canning kettle to process. About 15 minutes later, we had gleaming jars of golden fruit, just waiting to be opened months later on a dark Seattle winter evening.

We also made some smaller jars for the alcohol-soaked peaches, and then Mariah cranked out some peach jam and Maureen cooked down the scraps of skin to make a thick peach syrup for pancakes. It was a lot of work, but it was fun work, the sort that only gets better the more people are involved.

We came away impressed with the ease of it and itching to try making our own red pepper jelly. I’m also looking forward to trying some of those Cognac peaches on top of pound cake or ice cream in a few months…