Strawberry Peach Jam

The leaves are beginning to turn on the ridge. Not the maples yet — the maples turn last, or rather turn last and most dramatically, saving the best performance for October. The beeches and birches go first, yellow before anything else. A stand of them on the hill behind the sugarhouse has been turning since Monday, and from the kitchen window they look like a candle left burning overnight — warm, specific, slightly alarming in their brightness.

I made apple butter this week. Not applesauce — applesauce is quick and simple. Apple butter is a project: a large batch of apples (I use the Cortlands from my father's tree plus a bag of Macs from the farm stand), cooked down to a paste with cider, spices, a long slow simmer that fills the kitchen with the smell of cinnamon and sugar and something darker beneath that, the smell of fruit concentrated past sweetness into complexity. Four hours. Then it goes into jars. Apple butter keeps for a year. I will open a jar in February and spread it on toast and it will taste like this September Saturday, which is an excellent exchange for four hours of stirring.

Ben has been in kindergarten for two weeks now. Sarah reports he loves it. He loves his teacher. He loves the library corner. He has already read the three books in the classroom library that were at his level and has started on the next level up. The teacher apparently said she has not had a student start the next level up in the second week before. I said to Sarah: this is going to be a long twelve years for his teachers. She said she is not sure if that is a compliment or a warning. I said it is both. She said she figured.

Vermont in mid-September is doing the work of preparing for what comes next. So is everyone in it.

The apple butter is in its jars now, cooling on the counter, and I find myself in that particular post-project mood where the kitchen smells extraordinary and the work was hard enough to feel meaningful. Apple butter is not a recipe I can share here — it is more of a method, and one that depends entirely on the apples — but what the whole project reminded me of is this strawberry peach jam I made back in July, which is the same essential bargain: a few hours of standing over a hot pot so that you can open something extraordinary in the cold months. If you have never put up jam before, this is the one to start with. The fruit does most of the work.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 35 minutes | Total Time: 55 minutes | Servings: Makes about 5 half-pint jars

Ingredients

2 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and crushed
2 cups fresh peaches, peeled, pitted, and finely chopped
3 cups granulated sugar
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 packet (1.75 oz) powdered fruit pectin
1/4 teaspoon unsalted butter (to reduce foaming)

Instructions

Prepare jars. Sterilize 5 half-pint canning jars, lids, and bands in boiling water for at least 10 minutes. Keep warm until ready to fill.
Combine fruit. In a large, heavy-bottomed saucepan, stir together the crushed strawberries, chopped peaches, and lemon juice.
Add pectin. Whisk in the powdered pectin until fully dissolved. Add the butter. Bring the mixture to a full rolling boil over medium-high heat, stirring constantly.
Add sugar. Add all the sugar at once and stir to combine. Return to a full rolling boil that cannot be stirred down. Boil hard for exactly 1 minute, stirring constantly.
Skim and check. Remove from heat. Skim any foam from the surface. To test the set, place a small spoonful on a chilled plate — it should wrinkle slightly when pushed with a finger after 30 seconds.
Fill jars. Ladle hot jam into prepared jars, leaving 1/4 inch headspace. Wipe rims clean, apply lids and bands fingertip-tight.
Process. Process jars in a boiling water bath for 10 minutes. Remove and let cool on a towel-lined counter undisturbed for 12 hours. Listen for the satisfying pop of each lid sealing.

Nutrition (per serving, approximately 2 tablespoons)

Strawberry Peach Jam — When the Canning Instinct Takes Over in September