Fig Rosemary and Red Wine Jam -- The Pantry Filling Up for Winter

Late August. Corn coming on. Worked at the construction company in Lexington this week. The body holds. Most days.

Connie at the vet clinic, four shifts this week. Her back is tired. She does not say so. I see it. Mama is 86. She is the toughest person I have ever known. She still cooks every day in the company house in Evarts.

Green beans with bacon. Slow cooked. Connie's way.

Travis called Tuesday. The landscaping company is busy. He sounds tired in a good way. Amber called Sunday. Things are good. James sends his regards.

I sat on the porch with a bourbon at sundown. The fog was already settling in the hollow.

The creek was running clear Sunday afternoon. I watched a kingfisher work the riffle. Did not move for an hour. Some Sundays the watching is the worship.

Worked on a basement remodel job in Lexington. The work was good. The pay was good. The body is tired.

I checked the truck oil Saturday. The mileage on this truck is criminal.

My back was tight after the wood-splitting Saturday. Took an Aleve. Slept eight hours. Got up.

Amber sent the kids' school photos this week. Nadia is taller every year. Marcus has Amber's serious face. Little Betty has Mama's eyes.

The neighbor up the road — Old Roy, eighty-seven, lives alone — had a small heart scare. We took him soup beans Tuesday. Cornbread too. He cried a little when he ate. We all cry over soup beans eventually.

Travis sent a photo of Earl Thomas riding on the mower with him at a job site. The boy is wearing a Hensley Landscaping T-shirt that's too big. Three generations on a mower. I saved the photo.

Connie cut my hair on the porch Tuesday afternoon. She has been cutting my hair for forty years. The barber in Pineville cannot do what Connie does, which is also love.

The dog — old Beau, fifteen years old — slept by the wood stove all afternoon Tuesday. He used to be a hunting dog. Now he is a heating pad with opinions.

Connie read aloud from a novel Tuesday evening while I worked on the bench. Some Appalachian writer she had picked up at the library in Whitesburg. The voice was the voice of where we live. We listened together.

I went up to Earl's grave at the Evarts cemetery Saturday. Brought a beer. Drank half. Poured the rest on the dirt. Some traditions are mine alone.

Read the paper at breakfast Tuesday. The county news is not great. The mines have not come back and they will not come back. The young people leave. The hollows empty. We stay.

Drove to Pineville for parts Wednesday. The hardware store man knew me. We talked about the weather and the price of feed. Forty minutes for a five-minute errand. That is rural Kentucky.

I sat at the kitchen table Tuesday night working on the recipe project. Mama's soup beans. I cannot get the words right yet.

I split a half-cord of wood Saturday. Slowly. The back does not let me work fast anymore. It got done. The wood was for the smokehouse.

I sat on the porch with bourbon at sundown Friday. The fog rolled into the hollow the way it has every fog of every year. The porch was the porch. The bourbon was the bourbon.

Connie made jam Saturday afternoon. Wild blackberries from the patch up the hollow. Twelve jars. The pantry is filling for winter.

Drove the truck to the dump Saturday afternoon. Saw three deer crossing the road on the way back. The mountains have been giving back this year.

Connie made twelve jars of wild blackberry jam that Saturday, and watching the pantry shelves fill up is one of the quieter satisfactions of the life we live here. That same afternoon I got to thinking about the fig tree down by the creek bank and the bottle of red wine sitting on the counter nobody had opened, and this recipe came back to me —Fig Rosemary and Red Wine Jam, which has the same slow, deliberate spirit as anything Connie puts up. You make it the way you live here: without rushing, without waste, with something from the land in every jar.

Fig Rosemary and Red Wine Jam

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 24 (makes approx. 3 half-pint jars)

Ingredients

• 2 lbs fresh figs, stems removed, roughly chopped
• 1 cup dry red wine (such as Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot)
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 2 sprigs fresh rosemary (about 4 inches each)
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper (optional, for depth)

Instructions

1. Prep the figs. Remove stems and roughly chop figs into about 1/2-inch pieces. No need to peel —the skins soften completely during cooking and add color and body to the jam.
2. Combine and macerate. In a heavy-bottomed saucepan or Dutch oven, combine the chopped figs, red wine, sugar, lemon juice, and salt. Stir to coat. Let sit for 10 minutes at room temperature so the figs begin to release their juices.
3. Add rosemary and bring to a boil. Lay the rosemary sprigs on top of the fig mixture. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring frequently. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium-low.
4. Simmer low and slow. Cook uncovered, stirring every 5–7 minutes, for 35–45 minutes until the jam thickens and the liquid is reduced and glossy. The jam is ready when it coats the back of a spoon and a small amount placed on a cold plate wrinkles when pushed with a finger.
5. Remove rosemary. Fish out and discard both rosemary sprigs. For a smoother jam, use an immersion blender or potato masher to break down any large fig pieces. Leave some texture if preferred —it holds up well either way.
6. Jar and store. Ladle hot jam into clean half-pint jars, leaving 1/4-inch headspace. For refrigerator use, seal and cool completely before storing (keeps up to 3 weeks). For shelf-stable canning, process sealed jars in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes, then cool undisturbed on a towel for 12 hours.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 65 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 15g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 25mg