Sunday, September 27, 2009

Do You Remember the Kind of September?

What is it about September that makes me wish I had fruit trees? When I was in elementary school there was an orchard up the hill that we visited every fall. On blue skied, sunny days we picked our own apples, saw the cider presses, and tasted the juice. We went back in October for a hay ride and to pick out our Halloween pumpkins. I remember what it smelled like and I remember how it tasted. It seems like I even remember how it sounded. I think those memories lie sleeping throughout the year until September comes and then they awaken a quirky need within me to pick fruit, make jam, or can something. Whatever the reason I am overcome by this compulsive behavior every year, and this year was worse than usual.

It all started when our neighbor brought over a bag of peaches from off of her tree. That night I couldn't rest until I made a peach pie and put up four jars of peach jam. Seeing those jars sitting there made me think of grape juice. Last year my sister-in-law canned grape juice she made from grapes hand-picked off her neighbors vine. My curiousity about that whole process kept nagging at me like an itch that needed to be scratched so I finally called my brother and asked him to ask his neighbor if they had any grapes I could come pick. A little obsessive I know, but it got results. We met up with my brother and his family in Orem and tromped over to his neighbor's yard, bowls in hand. We picked all the grapes we could find and moved on to the pear and apple trees. It was so much fun, just like I remember as a kid, and our kids had a great time.


I remember sitting by my mother watching her pour steaming grape juice into jars and I couldn't wait to give it a try. I ran out and got a steam juicer and set it up right away. I called the girls over to show them how the juice streams out of the steamer and gave them each a turn to open the clamp.
Once the grapes were all juiced, I moved on to the apples. With the apples from my brother's neighbor and more from a tree near my mother-in-law's house, I cut, quartered, and steamed out a couple quarts of apple juice. But then there were all these leftover steamed apples that just couldn't be thrown away, so I ran them through a food mill and made applesauce. The girls took turns helping me turn the crank and mashing the apples down, and Luke stepped in when they got tired.

That was pretty easy, and there were still all these pears...



So we steamed and sauced those too.

I ran to the store to get more jars and saw strawberries on sale. Hmmm. The apple-strawberry juice bar I had earlier was sure yummy and since I already had apple juice at home... I bought the strawberries and juiced those. Then of course that left all the steamed berries that couldn't be thrown away so I had to spread those on trays and make fruit leather.

The total for the days work amounted to 4 1/2 quarts of grape juice, 2 quarts of apple juice, 9 pints of apple sauce, 6 pints of pear sauce, and 3 quarts of strawberry juice (but no fruit leather - it didn't turn out). Whew. After that frenzy of preservation I can not look at bottled juice and canned fruit the same way again. I am grateful I don't have to rely on what I can grow and preserve to feed my family all winter. I am happy to see my children enjoy what we have made. I have satisfied my curiousity. I'm pleased that I learned something new. I am very tired, and relieved to be done with fruit for the year. I'm not sure if I want do it again next year, but when September does come around again I'm sure I'll forget that and find myself telling my family, "It's time to go pick apples, remember?"