Red Cedar

It’s inevitable when I post a picture on Facebook of my food canning/hoarding ways: someone always makes a wisecrack about how “they know where to go when the apocalypse is happening”. Not only do I preserve tons of food in the summer, I bulk buy grains and legumes to keep in 5-gallon bins in the basement, and since I got a pressure canner last summer, I’ve been putting by large quantities of chicken and beef stock. I take this joking as a compliment, I really do, because underneath it is the suggestion that I’m organized and resourceful, and that I know how to take care of people when things are stressful or perilous. I hope those things turn out to be true if the shit really does hit the fan — but at the very least, I won’t starve in the first week 🙂

While canning is something I have done for the better part of my adult life (starting with a jam experiment way back in my first marriage circa 1997), my partner and I now churn out several hundred cans of food a summer (probably in the neighbourhood of 300, I really don’t keep track), and about once a year I purchase all our oats, rice, beans, barley and flour in 20 kg bags (there are only two of us plus my step-daughter part time, so this food often lasts us more than a year). And while I used to be motivated by the fear of societal collapse, I have way chilled out on that topic lately.

(Side note: we’re all going to die, and a couple of years ago I came to the realization that “prepping” behaviour is just another immortality project as Earnest Becker would term it, something designed to keep up the fiction that we can create immortality through our actions. Becker would further argue that attempts to immortalize oneself is the root of all social evil – wealth accumulation, war, and so on).

So why keep it up if I don’t feel a fear driven need to keep my basement and larder well stocked?

There are three central reasons for my food hoarding ways (and it’s not really hoarding if you are using it – right?):

1. Control over ingredients: This morning (like every morning) I added a quarter cup of nectarine/anise preserves to my oatmeal. Because I canned these last summer, I know that the only thing in that jar are nectarines, anise seeds, water and a small amount of honey (a tablespoon per jar). There are no additional preservatives, no additional salt, and no excessive sugars to contend with – and I like it that way. Even when I do can pickles or condiments that have a significant amount of sugar in them (home canning is definitely not sugar-free, but there are lots of way to lower sugar content which maybe I’ll do a post on in the future) – I am highly aware of what is in those foods and moderate my eating of them accordingly (really, how much ketchup and sweet pickles does one need to eat). Point being, I pretty much always know what’s in my processed foods because I choose the quality of food I want to eat and I do the processing myself.
2. Food aesthetics: This may seem frivolous, but I do love the look of food in jars on my shelves, and I relish the life-aesthetic of making/canning/serving foods that I have prepared. Additionally, I get to shop in my basement a great deal of the time which leads me to interesting food pairings and discoveries (who knew that pork stir-fried with canned (unsweeted) plums and cherries would be such a hit!) And I love that we never run out of the staples like rice and oats, sugar and flour.
3. COST! By far, however, the point that I probably take the most pride in is how much cheaper it is to eat this way – the savings from the staples and the canning, allow me to spend more of my weekly budget on high-quality meats and dairy rather than having to skimp on that stuff. For example – the chicken stock you see pictured above – 8 litres worth, cost me $10, the price of a 3 pound chicken (they didn’t have any stewing chickens in when I went to Donald’s – those sell for $10 but are 5 pounds). If you actually get down to counting out the kilos in a bulk bag of oats ($18 for 20 kg) you are looking at 90 cents per kilo versus the $2-3 is costs to purchase a single kilo. While it’s true that food storage does require having some extra space (which I am privileged to have) – it’s also true that it shaves a significant amount of my monthly grocery budget to shop and store food in this way.

It’s a bit of a thing, I know, to change one’s habits and build food prep and storage into your life in this way – and my transition has taken the better part of two decades as I figure out what works and finesse that for my living circumstances and current family/living situation. While I know this isn’t for everyone, I’m just here to say that what looks like hard work from the outside, is the pleasure of industry and the knowledge of food security on the inside – the good feelings that come with self-reliance and a household (or group of friends) working together to put food by for everyday use and in case of challenging times.

I had $200 set aside to buy myself some new clothes this paycheque and instead I took that money and spent it all on a bulk order of canning lids – enough to last me through two canning seasons (about 800 lids – they come by weight, so piece number of approximate). I’m not sure whether that says that I am meh about buying new clothes, or fanatical about being right on the cusp of another canning season – but it’s probably a mix of both.

I’m meh about the clothing because 1) I mainly only purchase the boring kind of clothes – underwear, jeans, yoga pants and t-shirts (and try to make the rest) and 2) I am at a heavier weight than I would like to be at the moment and actively working to change that.

I’m stoked about the canning because – omigod I got to fill the basement with food again! Also, we really ate down our canning in a serious way this year and I’m proud of the fact that after years of canning, we are actually eating most of what we can (it’s taken me years to get realistic about what and how much we actually need in the canned goods department).

In any case, it’s not quite BC canning season – so all that excitement is currently confined to reading canning books and pressure canning the odd batches of broth and beans (4 quarts of bone broth, 16 pints of beans this weekend) to satisfy my larder. I’ve found a couple new-ish books recently (both modern and practical) that I’m quite pleased about  – I will write reviews in the near future – but since this post isn’t a book review I’m going to leave those alone for now.

Point being that I found a recipe for blood-orange and meyer lemon marmalade in one of those books on the weekend that got me all hot and bothered – not because I love marmalade so much but because the idea of red citrus in the grey of March is oh-so-pleasing to me. And so I added the ingredients to my Saturday shopping list – only to discover that while blood oranges are everywhere right now, I could not get meyer lemons in any of the local shops (I swear I saw some earlier this week at Donalds…..)

So instead I settled on blood oranges alone and turned to the Internet to find a different recipe – one that called for the oranges alone….. and of course I was pretty much instantaneously rewarded with a Small Batch Blood Orange Marmalade recipe over at Food in Jars. Of course I decided to double it – three jars never being enough of anything for me (well except the sage flower jelly, I sure never needed six jars of that, although it does look pretty on the shelf). This recipe is particularly nice because instead of removing all the white pith, the process calls for soaking the oranges and rinds overnight in water which softens things up and evens out the bitter flavours. I did the orange prep on Saturday and yesterday when I returned from the zendo, I set those two pounds of chopped oranges to cook with five cups of sugar. Because I was doing other things and didn’t want to risk burning or boiling over I set these to simmer on low heat over many hours (five or so) before they met the gelling test (frozen plate, temperature @ 220, sheeting off spoon) and I put six half-pints the colour of a sunset into a pot of boiling water for sealing.

The picture at the top of this post is, of course, proof of my patience and I’ve set a task for my husband and step-daughter this week: find the perfect scone recipe to go with this beautiful jam!