The cat is back...again! I apologize for my long absence! No excuses, I've just been doing a lot of things like this:
And of course, a whole bunch of working with awesome kids and making music!
So fire up your range, uncork your Cabernet, and let's get to work!
Have you heard of flea beetles?
They are like they sound. Teeny, tiny, voracious little monsters that devour every tomato leaf in their path (and apparently the occasional kale plant). Matt and I had noticed a couple of weeks ago that our tomato leaves had roughly one million miniscule holes in them, and thusly were turning brown and falling off. We thought we had taken care of the issue with some organic blight spray, which didn't work even a little; enter the flea beetles.
Most of you are familiar with my bug issue. If not: I have a bug issue. After a few years of being the primary gardener in our household, it's improved slightly, but my general knee jerk reaction to anything with more than four legs is to turn it to putty. Spare me your lecture of "Blah, blah, blah good bugs versus bad bugs, don't kill the Daddy long legs, blah." Don't care. If it's in my hair or on my body it will be dispatched of forth with.
Flea beetles are so little. Like, so little. You can't even see them unless you're looking. Unless, of course, you've made your sweatshirt into a kangaroo pouch and filled it with roughly 30 roma tomatoes, and as you innocently dump them into the sink to be washed, a conservative estimate of 12 billion little black vermin swarm OUT OF YOUR CLOTHING and take over your ENTIRE kitchen counter. Seriously, no one will ever make me feel bad about smashing ANY bug, ever again.
The internet and I conspired to kill these hungry little jerks together. After maybe a solid five minutes of searching, we determined that there IS NO EXISTING PESTICIDE organic or otherwise that will effectively eliminate all signs of flea beetles. None. Someone suggested on a forum of equally grossed out gardeners that they don't like chili oil. Some had found success with garlic. Not wanting to be perceived as not taking this seriously, I promptly put ten garden chilis, 4 cloves of garlic, water and oil in the food processor. I smelled it, and about fell over. For real guys, it still burns when I blow my nose. It might forever, who's to say? I figured that applying this directly to the fruit could result in some seriously caustic tomatoes, so I poured it all over the base of 10 tomato plants. They're not dead yet (the plants or the bugs), so here's to hoping, right? Also if you come over to my house, maybe don't play in any of my dirt, because it might melt your fingers off of your body.
But I digress... This is just a really long way of telling you that I've been canning all of my tomatoes as soon as they even turn pink on the vine. The bugs don't seem to care much for the actual tomato fruit itself, but I figure they're bound to run out of leaves sometime, and it could turn ugly.
I have a lot of fond memories of canning with my Mom as a kid. We made countless jars of pickles and tomatoes. Occasionally, I'll still get to can with her when I come home for a weekend in the fall. This is my first year attempting tomatoes on my own, and it's unbelievably satisfying to have those fresh jars all lined up on the counter, so much so that you leave them there for several weeks to admire until your husband suggests that they be given a new home in the pantry.
As far as I'm concerned, the jury is still out as to whether or not canning actually saves you any money, especially for the first couple of years, unless you have a seriously productive garden, or a plentiful stock pile of mason jars. After your first couple of seasons, all you should really have to purchase are the fresh lids, but until then it's more of a feeling of accomplishment with the added bonus of having preservative free veggies until next year. While canning, I personally like to envision myself as Xena, warrior farm-woman of the prairie, who's muscular thighs propel her through her fields of plump, ripe tomatoes, while her arms of steel place them into her home spun basket, made from the bones of her enemies. But that's just me. My personal experience has been fairly cost effective as I inherited a water bath canner from my Mom's basement, and I don't can it unless I grew it... paying by the pound to put up tomatoes is really only saving you the unnecessary ingredients that they incorporate into canned food from the store.
This is a supply-heavy process. I haven't really come across any ways to MacGyver canning... the whole risk of botulism thing is kind of a turn off. You will need:
-A steam, or immersion (water bath-which is what I use) canner WITH A RACK! If you place the cans directly on the bottom of the pot on the burner, you risk them cracking.
-pint jars (for this particular recipe) with new, never before used lids, and rings.
-A silicone padded jar lifter, or heavy duty oven mitts to lift out your entire rack.
-A small sauce pan for heating the lids.
-A larger stock pot for boiling the skin off the tomatoes.
-A slotted spoon.
-A large colander.
Your stove will look like this (minus the salsa because this is an old picture...):
Ingredients:
-As many tomatoes as you want to can. It takes about six-eight roma tomatoes to fill a pint jar.
-Lemon juice (store bought is fine)
-Salt
Fill your water bath canner approximately 3/4s of the way full. Put your jars (without lids) in the rack in the pot to sterilize them. Bring water to boil on high heat- allow to boil until you're ready to use the jars. This will take approximately forever, so while you wait: Put the lids with some water in the small sauce pan, bring to a boil, reduce to simmer, allow to simmer until you are ready to use. Bring water to a boil in the large stock pot.
While you wait for all that water to boil, core and score your tomatoes with an "X" on the bottom. This is my Mom's favorite part. She likes to pretend they're the people that frustrate her, which is a totally healthy way to cope with stress. Fill your sink with cold water for later. Once your stock pot is boiling, put the cored tomatoes in the water for 30 seconds to 1 minute, until you see the skin just start to crack. It's helpful to do this in smaller batches (no more than 10 tomatoes at a time). Take the tomatoes out of the hot water, and put them in the cold. Repeat until all of your tomatoes are in the cold water. Remove the skins (they should slide off easily, if not, you can throw them back in the hot water for a second). Place the tomatoes in the colander.
When your tomatoes are ready, and your water is boiling in the canner, you can carefully pull the sterilized mason jars out of the canner. Place on a kitchen towel on the counter near your tomatoes.
For each jar:
-Fill half way with tomatoes (mush into jar).
-For pint jars, add 1 tbsp of lemon juice, and 1 tsp salt.
-Fill the rest of the way, leaving about a half an inch of head room.
-Wipe the rim of the jar, make sure it's really clean or it might not seal!
-Remove lids from simmering water, screw down rings until just barely finger tight.
-Using jar lifter, place jars back in the hot water bath, make sure the lids are covered by about 2 inches of water.
-Cover, wait for water to return to a boil (I know, this takes forever, remember, you are Xena! Canning war goddess, or God! To the best of my knowledge, Xena is a gender neutral name!)
-Once water is boiling, keep covered, set timer for 15 minutes.
-After 15 minutes, remove from water, set on towel to cool.
-Any unsealed jars should seal as they cool (you can tell if they're sealed by tapping the top, no sound = sealed), if you want to make double sure, you can turn the cans upside down on their lids after they've cooled for a few minutes.
(For quart jars, use 2 tbsp lemon juice, 2 tsp salt. Process for 25 minutes instead of 15.)
Voila! Delicious, preservative free tomatoes! I've read that shelf life is anywhere from six months to a year, but I know people who say it's fine as long as the jar is still sealed and the contents are unchanged (color, fluid level). Once opened, refrigerate. You go, canning Goddess! You are truly a vision of garden warrior success!
As always, Butterballs, thanks for reading! Here's to a few more weeks of beautiful weather, delicious food, and time on the water (or boiling it if you're canning tomatoes...)
Best Fishes!
XOXOX
Enjoyed this a lot, Katie! Felt like I was right there with you. Have never canned tomatoes, but I feel confident I could. Good details! (Sorry to hear about flea beetles. Never heard of them.)
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