Canning 80 Pounds of Fruit
JULY 28, 2007 - On my way home from Yellowstone Park on a trip with my mom, I experienced two natural wonders: the shooting geyser known as Old Faithful, and the fruitful bounty of the south Okanagan as we headed for home. I bought 20 pounds of Rival apricots, 20 pounds of Lapin cherries, and 40 pounds of Early Red peaches. So I knew what I was going to be doing over the next few days.
Okay, I made one mistake. First, I correctly asked the farmer, what do you have in season right now? And I bought what that was. And while I mentioned I was canning it, I didn't actually ask if it was suitable . . . And I can tell you that our Early Red peaches, at least, were not ideal for skinning or pitting. They did not transform into the perfect orbs of store-bought canned peaches.
There are apparently two kinds of peach, "clingstone" and "freestone", depending on how easily they can be pitted. Wish I'd known that before canning.
"I don't think these would win at the fall fair," I said as I screwed down the lids.
"I wouldn't even bring them near the fall fair," James replied. But - we did them with a light honey syrup - and can't you guess that they taste fantastic anyway? Perhaps if the judge at the fall fair was blindfolded we'd stand a chance.
It seems a miracle that we can grow peaches in Canada. They seem so lush and heavenly that they must be a tropical thing. But Amygdalus persica is a member of the rose family that favours "temperate but warm climates, [and] will not endure either tropical heat or severe cold," the Oxford Companion to Food explains. Thank goodness.
Wild peach trees still grow in their orginal homeland of China; the Romans spread it around Europe; and we can thank the Spanish for bringing it to America. The Persians were early adopters, and are therefore honoured in the Latin name; the French, apparently, perfected them, as many varieties have Gallic names. So, local food can be global too!
However, while the peach seeds were easily transportable by foot and boat over the centuries, the ripe fruit is a more neighbourly thing."To be at its best, a fresh peach has to ripen on the tree. Those which are exported over long distances are often picked long before they are ripe and make poor eating . . . " the Oxford Companion explains. In fact, they say, they are so delicious it seems a shame to cook them at all. (But, dear Companion, there is always the Canadian winter to survive.)
To T.S. Eliot, they were the stuff of poetry, and something to be pined for if lost:
"I grow old . . . I grow old . . .
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each."
To be continued: apricots and cherries. -ADS
