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June 28th  2011    Tim Candler

    These are the long days, adjusted occasionally by the requirement to put food by.  Last year I recall spending a very long, long day pickling just three jars of Beetroot.  And in the cupboard there is a series of fine looking jars containing an unidentifiable something from two or three years ago, and I will one day soon pull their lids and offer their content to the deer that has taken a liking to one particular new Peach Tree.

    I remember years ago "Bottling Tomato".   To that part of me which remains English, "canning" is some form of factory work that involves tin cans.  And those who "can," work in "canning" factories out of which come things like bully beef or mushed peas or excitable fish.

 

     When I first heard the word "canning" as it is often used here in the United States, I had this image of complex basement appliances, levers and some form of hot melt.  I did not think of glass jars at all.  And worse I found those who professed to  "home can",  saintly and  incredibly irritating.   Had they simply told me they bottled Tomato, I might have made eye contact, picked up the odd tip.

     Usually our surfeit of Tomato are frozen, but this year I will "Bottle Tomato" and I'll put them in well labeled rows and sometimes I'll just stare at them while telling myself how wonderful I am.

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