Tonight I'm making a baked sausage pasta dish, and the recipe calls for a 28 ounce can of tomatoes. So I went to the canning shelf and took down one of my hard-won jars of crushed tomatoes. I wish you could have been standing with me as I popped off the canning lid, because I was immediately transported - the sharp, rich smell of tomatoes and summer filled the air.
And immediately I understood why. Why we stand at a steaming stove with bubbling pots on the hottest days of the year, wiping the sweat constantly from our foreheads, cursing at the canner and the slippery jars. It's so we can open a jar of summer in late November.
It's completely unlike opening a can of tomatoes from the store. That store-bought can is like a black and white copy of the homemade version, it is fine, but nothing like the homemade version, which upon opening takes you right back to the lushness of your July garden.
Right away, this song came in to my head:
"Let the December winds bellow 'n blow
I'm as warm as a July tomato.
Peaches on the shelf, potatoes in the bin,
Supper's ready, everybody come on in
Taste a little of the summer,
Taste a little of the summer,
You can taste a little of the summer
My grandma's put it all in jars.
Well, there's a root cellar, fruit cellar, down below
Watch your head now, down you go
Maybe you're weary and you don't give a damn
I bet you never tasted her blackberry jam
Ah, she's got magic in her - you know what I mean
She puts the sun and rain in with her green beans.
She cans pickles, sweet and dill
She cans the songs of the whippoorwill
And the morning dew and the evening moon
And I really got to go see her pretty soon
'Cause those canned goods I buy at the store
Ain't got the summer in 'em anymore.
Peaches on the shelf, potatoes in the bin,
Supper's ready, everybody come on in
Taste a little of the summer
Taste a little of the summer
You can taste a little of the summer
My grandma's put it all in jars." (Greg Brown)
Now, I'm sold. I wasn't this past summer, though canning was a fun project and it made me feel good to actually preserve the harvest - I wasn't sure it was really worth it. I've just reached the next level, though, one which I could not have imagined back in July - and that is how welcome a jar of summer tomatoes would be one cold night in November.
And immediately I understood why. Why we stand at a steaming stove with bubbling pots on the hottest days of the year, wiping the sweat constantly from our foreheads, cursing at the canner and the slippery jars. It's so we can open a jar of summer in late November.
It's completely unlike opening a can of tomatoes from the store. That store-bought can is like a black and white copy of the homemade version, it is fine, but nothing like the homemade version, which upon opening takes you right back to the lushness of your July garden.
Right away, this song came in to my head:
"Let the December winds bellow 'n blow
I'm as warm as a July tomato.
Peaches on the shelf, potatoes in the bin,
Supper's ready, everybody come on in
Taste a little of the summer,
Taste a little of the summer,
You can taste a little of the summer
My grandma's put it all in jars.
Well, there's a root cellar, fruit cellar, down below
Watch your head now, down you go
Maybe you're weary and you don't give a damn
I bet you never tasted her blackberry jam
Ah, she's got magic in her - you know what I mean
She puts the sun and rain in with her green beans.
She cans pickles, sweet and dill
She cans the songs of the whippoorwill
And the morning dew and the evening moon
And I really got to go see her pretty soon
'Cause those canned goods I buy at the store
Ain't got the summer in 'em anymore.
Peaches on the shelf, potatoes in the bin,
Supper's ready, everybody come on in
Taste a little of the summer
Taste a little of the summer
You can taste a little of the summer
My grandma's put it all in jars." (Greg Brown)
Now, I'm sold. I wasn't this past summer, though canning was a fun project and it made me feel good to actually preserve the harvest - I wasn't sure it was really worth it. I've just reached the next level, though, one which I could not have imagined back in July - and that is how welcome a jar of summer tomatoes would be one cold night in November.