By Mid-July heat. Garden producing wildly — squash and cucumbers and tomatoes and peppers all at once, the abundance of summer that makes you feel rich even when you're not, because a man with a garden full of food is a man who has what matters regardless of the bank account.
Canned twelve pints of salsa Saturday. Tomatoes, jalapenos, onion, garlic, cilantro, lime juice, vinegar. The kitchen was a hundred degrees and the sweat ran into my eyes and the salsa simmered on the stove and the jars pinged as they sealed and the whole production felt like a factory — my factory, a factory of one, producing food for winter, storing summer in glass jars the way a squirrel stores acorns except my acorns have cilantro.
Clay went camping again. Second overnight trip, Daniel Boone Forest, but this time Sarah went with them. Not just the VA group — Sarah. Clay called from the campsite and said Sarah built the fire. He said she built it the way mountain women build fires — kindling first, small sticks, then bigger ones, a proper structure, not the mess that city people make. He said she didn't need help. He said she didn't need help and she looked at him over the fire and smiled and he felt something he hasn't felt in a long time, which he didn't name but which I know is safety. The feeling of being with someone who can build a fire and who doesn't need you to be anything other than what you are. Safety. That's the word Clay isn't saying yet. But he will.
The salsa was sealed and cooling on the counter, twelve pints lined up like soldiers, and I still had tomatoes on the vine and peppers coming faster than I could use them — so I kept the canning operation running. This tangy barbecue sauce is the natural next move when your garden is in full riot and the stove’s already hot and you’ve already accepted that you’re going to sweat through your shirt anyway. Clay and Sarah were out building fires in Daniel Boone Forest, and I was in here building something of my own — jars of sauce that’ll carry the taste of this July all the way into January, when you need it most.
Tangy Barbecue Sauce
Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 48 (makes about 3 pints)
Ingredients
- 3 cups ketchup
- 1 cup apple cider vinegar
- 1/2 cup brown sugar, packed
- 1/4 cup molasses
- 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
- 2 tablespoons yellow mustard
- 1 tablespoon chili powder
- 1 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1 teaspoon onion powder
- 1 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper (adjust to taste)
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 2 tablespoons lemon juice
Instructions
- Combine ingredients. Add ketchup, apple cider vinegar, brown sugar, molasses, and Worcestershire sauce to a heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat. Stir to combine.
- Add seasonings. Stir in mustard, chili powder, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, black pepper, cayenne, and salt until fully incorporated.
- Simmer. Bring the mixture to a gentle boil, then reduce heat to low. Simmer uncovered for 35–45 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens and the flavors meld. It should coat the back of a spoon.
- Finish with lemon juice. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice. Taste and adjust seasoning — more vinegar for tang, more brown sugar for sweetness, more cayenne for heat.
- Can or store. For immediate use, cool and refrigerate up to 3 weeks. For canning, ladle hot sauce into sterilized half-pint or pint jars, leaving 1/4-inch headspace. Process in a boiling water bath for 20 minutes. Let jars cool undisturbed — listen for the ping.
Nutrition (per serving, approx. 2 tablespoons)
Calories: 35 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 9g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 210mg