Putting Up: Progress Report

Remember that pile of library books on canning I mentioned about a month ago? (Yes, I’m behind on my blogs.) After spending a couple of nights staying up too late reading about how to can, recipes for canning, and how canning can kill you, I decided the only way to learn was to jump in and try. So, of course, I did it the smart way—invited four other people who had also never canned before to join me; decided to start out easy with whole tomatoes, peaches in simple syrup, salsa, and pickled okra; and estimated that the whole process would probably take 6 hours so of course I’d also have that day to volunteer for gameday recycling, read for class, and finish all my homework.

Ahem. Now I know things, which I will share with you so when you decide to preserve local food for winter consumption you actually do it the smart way.

1)  Can with someone who has done it before. Just for peace of mind and to make sure you don’t get in over your head. And to make sure you are doing the right thing so your cans aren’t botulism-infested.

2)  Pick ONE THING to can.

3) Canning takes a long time. Don’t commit to other plans on canning day. You’ll have to cancel them anyway.

There are two main canning methods: hot water canning and pressure canning. Hot water canning is appropriate for acidic foods such as most fruits and anything pickled. Pressure canning is required for everything else. This distinction is important because botulism (a potentially fatal bacteria) produces toxins in low-acid, low-oxygen environments, like a can of green beans. Pressure canning ensures that cans are processed under a high enough temperature to kill botulism spores in the can.

Since pressure canning equipment is significantly more expensive than that required for hot water canning, and because tomatoes and peaches (high acid fruits) were in season when we embarked on this adventure (mid-September), I opted for the hot water canning route. So, armed with lots of books and a bunch of excitement, we got to work, following all the instructions carefully.

Aside from the, shall we say, “beginner’s errors” described above, canning went remarkably well. Preparing the fruits before canning (washing, blanching, peeling, de-pitting, slicing and dicing, cooking) took a lot of time, but many hands and good company made the time go by quickly. 

Ice before or after blanching? We had some confusion.

Mark stirs the pot. Typical.

Sticky fingers

Hot water bath processing

All our cans sealed the first time, and now we have beautiful local produce to sustain us throughout the winter!

about-to-be pickled okra

This process raised some questions for me that I hope to be able to research further as part of this project. My stove burners were running full-throttle for pretty much the whole day. Yes, I saved carbon because my cans contain organic, locally-grown, in-season tomatoes. The transportation and production emissions for the vegetables themselves are much less than for a store-bought can of tomatoes. The glass jars I used were shipped to the store I bought them from, but I can reuse those year after year so that is a one-time emissions expense. But what about the efficiency of the mechanized aluminum canning process? I predict that the emissions generated from processing the tomatoes at the canning plant, on a per ounce basis, are less than the emissions caused by my stove. But maybe not…how does it measure up? Is home canning necessarily an emissions-saver? I’m digging around for some research on this…stay tuned.

The other main feeling I have coming out of this is that canning is only worth it for certain things. I don’t think I’ll can tomatoes again—freezing is just so much easier, with less risk of contamination. Since I’m not planning on saving these tomatoes for more than 5-6 months, freezing preserves them just as well. Convenience aside, which is actually the most sustainable solution? Again, stay tuned for the energy comparison between freezing and canning.

This was a tearful day

In addition to canning, I’m also pursuing my quest to localize my diet in other ways. Some are sticking, others I probably won’t do again. All my produce continues to come from the farmer’s market. I’ve found that I eat more fresh vegetables (as opposed to pasta, dried beans, etc.) when I go to the market each week. Part of this is because I can’t resist how beautiful all the produce looks, I end up buying more than I intended, and then I need to eat it before it goes bad. The cost differential from a grocery hasn’t been bad at all since I am buying what is peaking that week. I also purchased some local eggs, which were much more expensive than Kroger ($4.25 vs. $1.25)…depending on how much egg consumption (read, baking) I’m doing at a given time, that could make a financial difference quickly. Bread is the same—a loaf from Scholar’s Bakehouse costs $4.50, compared to $2.00 of mass-produced at Kroger, plus it is so holey that my PB&J kind of leak out. And I’m still consuming grain and dairy staples from grocery stores (for the most part purchased at locally-owned businesses, but still shipped in from somewhere else).

I’m blanching and freezing too. I’ve now got zucchini, squash, eggplant, onions, kale, and chard chilling in the freezer. I’m excited about the recipe potential this winter!

As we get closer to winter, I’ll shift from focusing so much on preservation to getting more into the research side of things, examining the effects of a local diet more critically.