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Jalapeno Cranberry Jelly — The One That Became Mine

Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, the days between. The family rhythm of the Kowalczyk family winter: Patty's cookies out on the counter all day for anyone who wants them, Steve watching television at a volume intended for the slightly hard of hearing, Matt on the couch correcting his kids' baseball forms when they throw pillows, Kristin reading her phone and then reading a book and pretending she was never on the phone. Babcia Rose in the best chair. Me in the kitchen helping Patty when I can.

I made the cranberry sauce with ginger again — this is the third year. It is mine now, this recipe, the one I started with orange zest and Babcia Rose said was better and I added ginger and she said it was better still. It is a recipe that exists because I kept adjusting it and being corrected and adjusting again. Kristin ate three servings. She said "This is the one." She meant the recipe. I said yes, this is the one.

New Year's is a week away and I have been thinking about what 2019 holds: second semester with these students, the blog growing, the recipe notebook getting fuller. A year that has a lot in it that I cannot see yet. The year I turned twenty-four. The year I will be two and a half years out from losing Jess. The year I will keep carrying the weight and it will keep feeling more like mine.

Patty made apple cake on Christmas Day — a German-style apple cake, dense and moist, with chunks of apple through it and a light streusel on top. She has been making it since before I was born, a recipe from a neighbor who moved away in 1992. She cut me a large piece and I ate it at the kitchen table watching the Christmas morning light come through the window and thought: I am exactly where I should be. All of it — the classroom, the blog, the notebook, the family in the next room — exactly right.

This is the recipe — or the closest I can give you to it. What I made for the Kowalczyks started with orange zest, became something with ginger, and somewhere in those three years of standing at Patty’s stove while Babcia Rose offered quiet corrections, it became a cranberry jelly with just enough heat to make you pause and want another spoonful. Kristin ate three servings and called it the one, and that’s all the endorsement I’ll ever need.

Jalapeno Cranberry Jelly

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 16

Ingredients

  • 12 oz fresh or frozen cranberries
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 1/3 cup orange juice
  • 1 teaspoon orange zest
  • 1 to 2 jalapeno peppers, seeded and finely minced (adjust to heat preference)
  • 1/2 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated (or 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger)
  • Pinch of kosher salt

Instructions

  1. Combine the base. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine the cranberries, sugar, water, and orange juice. Stir to dissolve the sugar and bring the mixture to a gentle boil.
  2. Add the heat and flavor. Once boiling, stir in the minced jalapeno, grated ginger, orange zest, and salt. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, stirring occasionally, for 15 to 18 minutes, until the cranberries have burst and the mixture has thickened to a jelly-like consistency.
  3. Test the set. Spoon a small amount onto a chilled plate — it should hold its shape loosely within a minute. If it’s still too loose, continue cooking for 2 to 3 more minutes.
  4. Cool and store. Remove from heat and let cool in the pan for 10 minutes, then transfer to a jar or serving dish. The jelly will firm up further as it cools. Refrigerate until ready to serve.
  5. Serve. Serve alongside roasted turkey, ham, or holiday roasts. Can be made up to 5 days ahead and stored covered in the refrigerator.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 58 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 15g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 10mg

Amanda Kowalczyk
About the cook who shared this
Amanda Kowalczyk
Week 144 of Amanda’s 30-year story · Chicago, Illinois
Amanda is a special ed teacher in Chicago, a mom of three-year-old twins, and a woman who lost her best friend to a fentanyl overdose at twenty-one. She cooks on a budget that would make a Whole Foods cashier weep — feeding a family of four for under seventy-five dollars a week — because she believes good food doesn't require a fancy kitchen or a fancy paycheck. She finished Babcia Rose's gołąbki after the funeral because that's what Babcia would have wanted. That's who Amanda is.

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