NOTE: this
has been a loooooooong post coming. I
forgot what file I saved these pictures under, hence the few week delay from
the actual festivities. Enjoy and
comment. J
We have all
heard the stories about frugal college students stealing saltine crackers and
condiment packets from the cafeteria.
The tales conjure images of depression era craftiness—or thievery in the
eyes of management. Being a girl from
the land of plenty, I could never really picture myself hording mini sugar
packets. Raspberry jam packets, sure. But, who wants a bazillion miniscule
envelopes of sodium chloride? But low
and behold, I am now one of them: the apple thief—and now the neighborhood
fruit thief.
Earlier this
month, Ellen and Autumn went out to pick some apricots from a tree that
overhung an old lady’s property about 3 blocks off campus. We figured that since the fruit was already
beginning to ferment in the ground, no one else was going to eat it. So, Ellen + Autumn gathered up a whole
grocery bag of quasi-soupy apricots—along with armfuls of grapes from the
neighbor’s out-of-control bushes and apples that “happened” to fall off a few
trees. Nothing, my dears, is safe from
desperate university students. Guard
your produce wisely. [Insert evil guffaw here].
By the time
the fruit made it back to the dorm mini-fridges, the apricots had begun to leak
out of their plastic Albertson’s bag. Ewwwww. Long term storage turned into
imminent issue… Thus, the Jam Party was born.
Ingredients + supplies:
1 Albertson’s bag of mushy
apricots
7 C&H sugar packets (preferably
taken from the school cafeteria)
¼ of honey, plus or minus to your
taste
2 stone hard, green apples
1 plastic knife (and a couple of backups
for when the first one snaps in half)
1 sauce pan that looks like it
was used for a murder weapon—if it resembles a kidney bean instead of a
cylinder, you are in good condition
1 lollipop sized stirring spoon
1 kitchen sink that has a
trust-worthy drain cover
1 ancient, pea-green 1960s stove
top (I recommend an electric version for the full effect)
8 slices of bread (optional)
Peanut butter (optional)
Directions:
Go rent the
key to the dormitory kitchen and needed kitchen supplies at the front
office. Be prepared to sign-away your soul and dignity. As
knives are “not permitted” in the dormitories, the front desk staff kindly
pointed us in the direction of a box of plastic butter knives to do our cooking. (This is where it is in your best interest to
snag a few extra butter knives.
Under-ripe apples do not cut nicely without a real blade).
Haul all
supplies up the elevator or stairs to the roof where the tiny, 6x7 kitchenette
is located.
At this point, split up the
preparation labor. Put someone in charge
of mutilating the apples and a few someones in charge of sifting through the
apricot mush in the sink to remove the pits.
I was in charge of chopping/shaving the apples into smithereens. But, it only took two cuts for me to break
the first butter knife in half . . . oops. Rather than waste our remaining
butter knives, Ellen scrounged up her pocket-sized bread knife which we
covertly used to finish to chopping job.
Place half
the apple chunks, half of the apricot mush and the sugar packets in the
battered sauce pan. Put the sauce pan on
one of the stove tops and set to medium-high.
When we first turned on the burner, a fowl smelling smoke began to emit
from below our jam pot. Not pretty. Ellen, Autumn and I all proceeded to freak
out and frantically attempt to wave the smoke out of the room. If the smoke alarm went off, ALL of Aber Hall
would get a one way ticket out of the building.
The fire department would be called in to determine our jam as the
source of the hullabaloo. If your stove
top begins to make ghastly smells, experiment with the other burners until you
locate a cooperative burner.
Allow the
fruit mush to come to a boil. As soon as
the mush starts to boil, take the lollipop sized spoon and stir like mad. If
the jam goes un-stirred for more than 10 minutes, it will begin to adhere to
the bottom of the sauce-pan.
 |
Ellen posing with our cauldron of
sticky goodness. |
Continue to
stir the thickening fruit sauce for about 30 minutes. Try to help break up the apple chunks by
pulverizing them with the back of the spoon.
If the chunks cannot be beaten into submission, this is okay. Our jam
had a rather lumpy consistency in the end.
Once the fruit sauce is relatively smooth and most of the liquid has
evaporated off, taste test the mixture.
If you are like me, no extra sugar should be needed. If you are like Autumn (or lookey-lou Clint),
it may require a “healthy” squirt of honey.
Adjust the preserve to your personal preference.
Pour the
reduced preserve into Ziploc/ Tupperware containers to cool. I recommend sticking the containers in the
freezer afterwards to help the preserve “gel-up” into a jam. Otherwise, the preserve is more like a fruit
paste. Yummy, but not jam.
If you are
feeling a little frisky—or want to turn the jam making into a Jam Party—get
ready to prepare some toast! Turn all
the electric burners onto low. Allow the
burners to warm up for about 5 minutes until they turn pink. Place one slice of bread on each burner to
start toasting. Flip the pieces of bread
about every 30 seconds several times until each slice is evenly toasted. Spread with freshly made jam and peanut butter
for one of the most labor intensive sandwich of your life.
Anyone up
for a dormitory jam session?
Cheers,
kaite ;]
Now, enjoy your dessert for breakfast (and feel smug about it too).
