Jammin'

I started making homemade jams last year on a whim.  My grandmother, my Nanny, always had jams, jellies, preserves, and pickles that she had made hanging around.  Growing up in the Deep South (and yes, that does need the capitalizations there...), I remember pecans off the tree, figs, persimmons, peaches, pickled okra, and all assortment of fruits and such.  My grandfather, my PawPaw, had a green thumb and could make anything grow.  I watched this man take a dead poinsettia from me, bring it back to life and raise it into tree.  No joke.  So there were always things around growing that could be turned into canned things.  That all being said, I had never actually taken part in any of that.  In fact, I had a fear of hot bubbly things because my best friend from early childhood, her mother was terribly scalded by hot liquid when she was canning once.

In my days at the office, I would kick it on the NY Times.  I particularly liked their food and home sections.  I came across this article one morning and thought, "Hey, I can do that!"  So, I promptly ordered both cookbooks and anxiously waited for them to appear in my mailbox.  Oh happy day when they finally arrived!  I took them to work to share with a friend who I do not think was as excited as I was.  I am pretty sure she was not quite sure if this could actually be done by people like us.  But I was determined to put things in jars and make them tasty.  Determined.

Thus began the search for things.  Where does one find jars in Chicago?  Why, the local Ace Hardware, of course.  I bought two cases of "quilted" 4 oz Ball jars.  A bit cutesy but no one was going to see these until I was sure that I had created edibles.  The next thing was fruit.  Fruit was expensive.  And then I found the super ripe fruit section in our tiny local grocery.  $1 got me pounds of ripe apricots, oranges, apples, and other goodies.  Excited by my treasures, I headed home.  I now had everything I needed: sugar, lemons, apricots, and jars.

Since that first batch (which was quite successful) I have made many different varieties of jams: Earl Grey Marmalade, Three Berry (raspberry, blueberry, blackberry), Strawberry Lemonade (which was handed out as we stayed with various people on our trip this summer), Spiced Pear Butter, and Strawberry Shortcake.  Scott also got on board and tried his hand at making and canning salsas.  He has had two successful batches.  The uncertain friend became a believer and has been the only other person than Scott and me to try them all.  Several of these also became part of a homemade wedding gift we gave to some good friends in Colorado.

And now that we are settled into our new home, I have begun making them again.  I've added pickling into the mix and I have pretty jars of sweet peppers with garlic and black peppercorns sitting in my cupboard just pickling away.  The wait time on these is apparently 8 weeks.  I doubt our peppers actually make it that long.

For the fruit, we have had the opportunity to go straight to the farms to get.  Sauvie Island proves to be an Eden for fruits and veggies.  We came home with 12 pounds of pears for homemade hard cider, 15 pounds of raspberries and blueberries, pumpkin and gourds, and some apples for eating.  From this, I have made a Raspberry & Star Anise jam that takes like a Jolly Rancher, Vanilla Caramel Pear butter, and a Blueberry Shortcake.  I have also taught a friend to make jams and she successfully completed a Blueberry Lemon that is quite delectable.

I'm just a happy urban homesteader.

The desert is not for me

We really had no plan for where to camp or stay that night.  We left Arches as the shadows were lengthening and our stomachs began to growl.  Our plan developed, somewhat tentatively, to head into Moab, grab a bite to eat, and then figure out where to throw our tent for the night.  Moab is a pretty little desert town, very southwest in color and style with plenty of adobe pueblo style buildings.  We wandered into Miguel's Baja Grill after peeking in and seeing the open air dining area.  The margaritas and fish tacos were a good enticement, as well.  I ordered the Baja Fish Tacos ("The traditional way of cooking fish tacos in Baja, Mexico. Breaded Mahi-Mahi, deep fried, served with a special sauce, flour tortillas, cabbage, cucumbers, and pico-de-gallo"). Scott ordered the Santa Rosalia Enchiladas with lamb ("Two corn tortillas filled with melted Jack cheese. Covered with your choice of green tomatillo sauce, molé or red sauce. Served with Baja Grill rice, beans of the day and sour cream. Available with your choice of steak, shrimp, lamb, chicken, pork, Portobello mushroom, or Poblano Chile, Onion, and Tomato.")  The meal was delicious, the service was great, and the margs were tasty and just enough.  We were pleasantly full and content when we walked out.

After consulting our map, we decided to head to Canyonlands National Park to check out campgrounds. We had done well so far with the park campgrounds and thought it might be far enough away from the more touristy campgrounds closer to Moab.  

We ended up in Horsethief Campground.  The name alone made us wonder.  For $12 we got a campground with no access to water, a campground bathroom (a fancier, non-portable port-o-potty basically which we were accustomed to) that was not terribly clean, noisy, and drunk neighbors out on their dirtbikes.  The stars were amazing that night, though, and we opted to sleep without the rain fly so we could see them and get a bit of the cool breeze.  

The next morning we were driven from the tent by the extreme sunshine beating in and the heat.  Right--it was the desert.  No water, check. Heat, check.  Dirt, check.  The minute we were out of the tent we were assaulted by clouds of angry black flies.  Bugs, check.  They were everywhere.  Even Asher was annoyed.  We packed down the tent as fast as we could, loaded up, and jumped in the car.  Probably won't return to Horsethief Campground.  The rock formations as we drove away were interesting, however.

We tried to skydive Moab but the pilots weren't flying and the tandem jumpers had the day off.  We were told that it is better to book with them a few days out because they do fill up quickly.  The guy was impressed that our first jump had been with Skydive Chicago (apparently on of the best outfits in the country) and was apologetic about the kink in our plans.  He gave us coupons to use next time we were in Moab.  With that we left Utah and began our march west.

In which we feel so young

The drive west from Denver is very pretty.  This was the first part of the trip where we began to seriously consider places to live.  There were several little towns through western Colorado that were quite tempting and fit the bill--small, picturesque, access to urban amenities.  The highway scenery was beautiful:

The landscape changes quickly out west, too.  Once you are over the mountains, it suddenly changes from the greens to tans, reds, and oranges.

We rolled up on Arches National Park after a day of driving from Denver.  It takes 5.5 hours to make the drive from Denver to Moab and Scott and I wondered why we hadn't taken it while we lived in Colorado.  A moment of wondering turned into the realization that we just hadn't had much time or money to get away when we lived in Crested Butte.  At least we did get to see it eventually.

Some things about Arches:
1. We may have been the only Americans there.
2. You need water because it is hot and dry.
3. Sunsets are amazing.
4. There is an odd green color in the dirt that didn't show up in our pictures.
5. Nature will really just blow your mind here.  It's an alien landscape.

"Arches National Park preserves over 2,000 natural sandstone arches, like the world-famous Delicate Arch, as well as many other unusual rock formations. In some areas, the forces of nature have exposed millions of years of geologic history. The extraordinary features of the park create a landscape of contrasting colors, landforms and textures that is unlike any other in the world."


Here are pics of the park:

Holes in rocks are pretty neat.