Raspberry Preserves

This morning, while getting a piece of toast ready for breakfast, I was happy to see the jar of red raspberry jam was almost empty. It means I can purchase a jar of raspberry preserves next time I’m at the store. Mike had gotten the jam recently when I had it on a list – not realizing I prefer the preserves, or perhaps not getting the difference between the two. And while spreading it on the piece of toasted 100% whole wheat, 100% sugar free bread which has been on the counter for two weeks without getting hard or moldy and is now beginning to scare me, I wondered why I like the preserves more than the jam? There are probably more raspberries that go into preserves than into jam. Jam just needs enough to flavor and the rest is sugar, or so my brain deducts. How many raspberries do you need to call it raspberry jam? And how many more are needed to call it preserves?

         And of course, that all gets me to remembering the summer at the house on Zimmerman when we got a huge batch of ripe raspberries on the bushes out back near the cherry tree, near the artesian well, near the septic system. You’d think we would have gotten a great yield every summer, but the raspberries only happened once. And the cherries only happened once, in a different year. All the other years, the birds got the fruit before they were ripe. Frustrating and sad. But the summer of the raspberries, Mom and I looked up the procedure for making and freezing raspberry preserves. I can still taste their goodness now when I think about it. Nothing has really compared ever since – but it is why I prefer the store-bought preserves  to the jam today – they come closer to that wonderful summer.

         But another memory comes to mind also when thinking about sugar and breakfast. The day I was on the plane flying to Martinique, back in 1979, 25 years old, I was in an aisle seat next to two young women who were together. Breakfast was served, and when I bit into a muffin, my mouth exploded with the wonderful flavor! Oh it was so good. The girl next to me bit into her muffin and her mouth exploded too but for a different reason – she almost spit everything out! Then she turned to her friend and said, “this is pure sugar!” I was embarrassed. Such a vivid recollection that is in my head, and I can still taste that muffin if I think about it. But even more vivid is the loneliness - I was traveling by myself, and at that point I felt more alone than ever.

         This morning, however, I am the only one in the house, but I am not at all alone. Life is full, and now that I’ve been pondering on it so much,  I’ve got an inkling to make a batch of raspberry preserves!

20180507 raspberry preserves