Homemade raspberry jam, all year long
I do not come from a family of jam-makers. For me, jam is a souvenir: I buy pineapple or passionfruit jam in tiny shops in Maui upcountry, or fresh apple butter after a trip to Apple Hill. I’m intrigued by the homemade labels and unexpected fruit combinations at farmers’ markets, and can rarely resist buying a jar.
Yet I’ve never been tempted to make jam. I have a vision of needing all sorts of complicated kitchen equipment, and lots of jars, and pounds and pounds of fresh fruit. As much I love it, jam has always seemed like a lot of work for a tiny jar of deliciousness.
Upon arriving in France, I thought I was in breakfast heaven. Instead of my standard bowl of cereal, my host mom offered up fresh bread and homemade jam in a wide variety of flavors: orange, citrus, apricot, green tomato, fig, raspberry. I was suspicious: our very traditional kitchen lacks any high-tech, jam-making equipment and she doesn’t grow any fruit herself.
When she pulled out a bag of frozen raspberries and announced that we would have a fresh batch of raspberry jam the next day, I was shocked. You can use frozen fruit to make homemade jam? Blasphemy! Apparently, jam making isn’t the labor-intensive, all-day endeavor that I was making it out to be. I’m blaming that illusion on too many episodes of “Little House on the Prairie” growing up.
Turns out jam making is pretty darn simple, but it does take a bit of patience. Plus, as I watched my host mom pour heaps of sugar in, I wondered if this was possibly unhealthier than the sugar cereals I was banned from eating as a kid. I brushed that thought aside, deciding that a serving of fruit cancels out any negative side affects.
What you need:
1 kg of raspberries, fresh or defrosted (about 2 ¼ pounds)
800 g of sugar
1 lemon
2 stars of anise
What to do:
Heads up, you will need plenty jars, a slotted spoon, and if you’re really feeling in the mood, a jam funnel–basically a bowl with a hole in the bottom.
In a large pot, mix the raspberries with the sugar, juice of the lemon and the stars of anise. Bring it to just before a boil. Immediately remove from heat and cover with a piece of waxed paper. Let sit overnight.
The next day, bring to a boil. Remove the froth from the top of the mixture with a slotted spoon while remaining on medium heat for five minutes.
Using a wooden spoon, stir delicately but regularly so that the mixture doesn’t get stuck to the sides of the bowl. Don’t forget to remove the stars of anise and any lemon seeds that might have snuck in. Bring to a boil one last time. It should “pearl” when it’s done—when you pull a wooden spoon out of the mixture, just a bit should hang on, forming a “pearl.”
Once a pearl forms, immediately put in jars. Let cool about five minutes before covering. Let the jam sit overnight, and refrigerate once opened.
“Tradition” (aka my host mom’s grandmother) dictates that you never fill up an entire pot at once, or it will burst from the heat.
Bon appétit!
