Preserving. It conjures up contradicting images of prettily labelled containers on checked tablecloths and body parts floating in rusty jars. Strange, I know. Aside from that it has been one aspect of cooking that I have always been apprehensive of. It is a tradition in our family to make some kind of jam – nectarine, mulberry and apple, apricot, mango, essentially whatever fruit is in abundance – each summer. But that is always a group effort and I am not responsible for coaxing it to the correct setting point, not burning the pot in the process and also not spilling it all over the kitchen table. Continue reading
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