Q. Fresh green beans are out of season and are very expensive at the moment. Have you ever heard of using [...]]]> Ask the Goats is an occasional Monday feature in which we attempt to answer your questions about growing, making, eating, and preserving food. Got a question for the goats? Drop us a line at dorisandjilly@gmail.com.

Q. Fresh green beans are out of season and are very expensive at the moment. Have you ever heard of using frozen for something like canned four-bean salad? They would already have been blanched. I’m guessing they would need to be dried well after thawing first but other than that would they work?—Natalia

Q. Just a question…can pickled three-bean salad then be frozen?—Shana

A. The answer to both questions is yes. But why would you?

Let’s take Shana first. I’m not entirely sure whether you wanted to freeze a fresh or canned four-bean salad, but neither strikes me as a particularly good idea. Fresh vegetables with vinegar in them do not, in general, freeze well. And if you’re talking about freezing a jar of pickled three-bean salad that you’ve opened, the resulting texture is going to be very sad. Remember, you’ve already simmered these beans in a vinegar solution and subjected them to 15 minutes in a boiling-water bath. Any remaining crispness is going to be obliterated by freezing. If you can’t finish your jar of three-bean salad in one sitting, rest assured that it will keep open in your refrigerator for at least a week. After all, it’s pickled.

On to Natalia. It’s the same problem, only in reverse. The texture of frozen green beans is not great to begin with. Although I haven’t personally tried it, I would guess that a canned four-bean salad that included frozen green beans would be very limp indeed. But I’m still having a hard time imagining why you would want to do this, since frozen green beans are already preserved. As Natalia herself points out, green beans are out of season. If you’re already buying frozen green beans anyway, why not just thaw out as much as you can consume at any given time? Why go through the time and effort of preserving something that’s already preserved?

I actually went back to Natalia on this very issue, and her answer made me reconsider. First, she cited cost—but that doesn’t answer the “why-bother-canning-them” question. More to the point, she said, “It’d be something I could can off season, not in the rush and heat of summer, and have available to eat from a jar this winter.” And that’s when I realized that I have, of course, done this very thing with frozen fruits, and even blogged about it here, and that it was more than a little hypocritical of me to chastise Natalia for canning green beans off-season. On more than one occasion, faced with a counter full of freshly picked strawberries, blueberries, or cherries, I’ve decided to stash the extras in the freezer and deal with them in the winter. Other people have told me that they enjoy off-season canning as a way to sharpen their food preservation skills, the better to face the onslaught of summer produce.

So, Natalia, you have my apologies. That being said, I still wouldn’t can a four-bean salad from frozen green beans, unless they’re your own. I think the texture will be disappointing, and if you end up tossing the results, you’ve negated the cost savings from buying frozen in the first place. If you find it more convenient to can a four-bean salad in winter than in summer, at least go with fresh green beans. And if you just want off-season canning practice, I recommend working with something where the texture is less critical, like a jam made with frozen fruit. Better yet, explore what you can do with the remaining produce that’s still available. You could make applesauce, or any number of pickled carrot thingies, or lemon curd.

How do you feel about off-season canning? Do you oppose it in principle? Endorse it only for things that come out of your own food preservation stash (root cellaring, freezing, etc.)? Love it for time management?

Yesterday—in case you missed it—the Dining and Wine section featured a “D.I.Y. Cooking Handbook.” For most of the day, at least until nuclear fears and March Madness pushed it down the page, the story held a coveted spot just to the left of the videos. Click through, and you [...]]]> Sometimes the New York Times annoys me.

Yesterday—in case you missed it—the Dining and Wine section featured a “D.I.Y. Cooking Handbook.” For most of the day, at least until nuclear fears and March Madness pushed it down the page, the story held a coveted spot just to the left of the videos. Click through, and you encountered an invitation to make your own mustard, vinegar, kimchi, and even Nutella. But do not fear, apartment dwellers! The author assured readers that the recipes are not seasonal and that they would require neither canning nor freezing. “Before getting underway,” Julia Moskin writes, ” it’s not necessary to understand lactic fermentation, or to learn the difference between bacon and pancetta.”

ARRRRGH. Where to begin. Let’s start with this. Has the author tried freezing kale, which she mentions as a particularly terrifying activity? I’m wondering which part of blanching vegetables and sticking them in plastic bags is so complicated, especially compared to, say, making tesa, a kind of cold-cured pork belly? And how do you reconcile the line that “You can’t get more local than your own kitchen” (from the introduction) with recipes that involve hazelnuts and chocolate? Are there secret cocoa plantations hidden in the wilds of Long Island? And what’s with the random swipe at Charcutepalooza’s February challenge?

I was trying to figure out what, exactly, ticked me off about this article. To begin with, I have a knee-jerk reaction against reporting that presents knowledge as bad. As an editor, it makes no sense to me that the Times will front complicated diagrams of nuclear reactors, but somehow decide that explanations of canning, lactofermentation, and freezing (?!!) are beyond its readers. The piece was also sort of randomly researched. The bibliography includes some useful links, like the National Center for Home Food Preservation, Hank Shaw’s Hunter Angler Gardner Cook, Kate Payne’s The Hip Girls’ Guide to Homemaking, and Charcutepalooza (at which I seem to be 1 for 3, but that’s another story). But no Food in Jars? Seriously? And what about Punk Domestics, your one-stop-shop for kitchen DIY? No Canvolution? No smaller-but-just-as-brilliant blogs, like Hitchhiking to Heaven?

I recognize that I’m partially annoyed that the New York Times does not recognize the brilliance of my hard-working canning friends, without whom there would be no canning phenomenon to merit a backlash against. I’m biased. Fair enough.

But I think this is about something deeper. For me, this article highlighted the fundamental divide in the DIY food community between artisan production and resourcefulness. On the one hand, you’ve got what I would call the Artisanal Brooklyn Movement (or perhaps Moment)? These are the folks bringing you $9 pickles. It’s a movement fueled by a desire to achieve freedom from corporate producers and industrial food. (These are values I share, by the way.) It is not, however, a movement that’s about simplicity or locality. As the Artisanal Brooklyn Movement moves toward self-parody, it seems more and more like its proponents are suggesting that you continue to eat the stuff that you get at high-end restaurants and specialty groceries—but instead of purchasing them, they suggest that you learn to make them yourself. And this, my friends, is how you end up making your own maple vinegar.

The most avid proponents of local food preservation, on the other hand, push austerity and making do. How long can you push the harvest? What’s the maximum distance of your food shed? Do you find that blueberries in March are better dehydrated, frozen, or canned? Sometimes you sacrifice quality for the satisfaction of knowing where your food comes from. Rather than something to be worked around, seasonality is the point. In spring you plan and plant; in summer you eat from your garden; in fall you harvest and preserve; in winter you eat from your stores. It’s alternatively exhausting, exhilarating, and monotonous. And this, my friends, is how you end up eating frozen kale salads in March.

Don’t confuse DIY with food preservation. There’s something to be said for each. While I happen to find frozen kale delicious, I wouldn’t eat nearly so much of it if it didn’t keep so well. It’s not very exciting, and I doubt that I’m going to see it offered up in my local boutique grocery anytime soon. It is, however, extraordinarily dependable, and cheap. So, I’ll stick with it. At the same time, I recognize the joys to be had from homemade artisanal products made with specialty or imported ingredients. As I type this, I’m sipping organic coffee imported from Costa Rica, sweetened with sugar from God-only-knows where. My coffee would be even better accompanied by a fancy homemade cracker topped with homemade Nutella—maybe I’ll try my hand at it next week.

All of which is to say that maybe the DIY Cooking Handbook isn’t necessarily so awful. It’s just not talking to me. I’m trying to take this as a reminder that I want my own posts to be as inviting to those of you coming at this from the artisanal side as this piece was originally off-putting to me. And I offer my solemn promise that knowing how lactofermentation works won’t make your kimchi taste any more sour (unless you like it that way).

But enough of my grumpiness. What did you think? How’s that tomato chili jam?

Q. Can tangerine marmalade be made with Stevia and/or Splenda for people like me who have diabetes?—Deborah

A. You can absolutely make [...]]]> Ask the Goats is a semi-regular Monday feature in which we attempt to answer your questions about growing, making, eating, and preserving food. Got a question for the goats? Drop us a line at dorisandjilly@gmail.com.

Q. Can tangerine marmalade be made with Stevia and/or Splenda for people like me who have diabetes?—Deborah

A. You can absolutely make a fruit spread from Stevia, Splenda, or other sugar substitutes. You can also go sugar free. If you want a consistency that in any way resembles a traditional jam or marmalade, however, you’ll need to add some form of pectin. Sugar is essential to the gelling process, so when you reduce or eliminate it, you have to add some other means of structural support. Although I haven’t had much experience with it myself, many low-sugar canners swear by Pomona’s Pectin. Laura at Squirrel it Away! recently posted an extremely helpful piece about her experiences converting her high-sugar recipes to low-sugar jams with the help of Pomona’s Pectin. (Note, though, that hers still include 1/2 c. of honey, which may be too much for you.)

Depending on what sort of artificial sweetener you’d like to use, you’ll probably need to experiment to locate just the right amount. You should also be aware that some artificial sweeteners (I don’t have enough experience with them to know which ones) produce an off-flavor when heated, so you’ll probably want to add your sweetener at the last possible minute before transferring the marmalade to the jars. For ideas, a good place to start would be Norma McRae’s Canning and Preserving Without Sugar.

Finally, remember that sugar is a preservative. While it’s safe to can reduced-sugar or sugar-free fruit products, be aware that they won’t last as long as traditional jams once you open them. You should plan on eating the contents of your jars within a week or two. If you can’t finish them that quickly, you might want to consider smaller jars.

Good luck, and please report back on your results!

Q. Is it really necessary to sterilize the jars for jams? I’ve been making [...]]]> Ask the Goats is a semi-regular Monday feature in which we, the goats, attempt to answer your questions about growing, making, eating, and preserving food (though you probably don’t need much help with the eating). Send your questions to dorisandjilly@gmail.com.

Q. Is it really necessary to sterilize the jars for jams? I’ve been making marmalade for many years, and I figure that since the marmalade is almost boiling hot when it goes into the jars, that should do the job. At least, I’ve never had any go bad in the jar.—Ed

A. Weeeeeeeel. It depends. If you’re doing everything else by the book—using a sugar to fruit ratio of at least 1:1, processing your jars for 10 minutes, heating up the lids—it’s highly unlikely that you would have any problems with mold or yeast formation in marmalade unsterilized jars. But those are a lot of ifs.

There are only so many corners that you can cut when canning fruit preserves. You want to reduce the sugar? Fine, but be sure to process the jars for at least 10 minutes. You want to thumb your nose at the USDA and skip processing altogether, like the French? OK, but be sure to use a full 1:1 sugar ratio and sterilized, piping hot jars—and don’t expect the jars to last forever.

The short answer is that you need not sterilize your jars if your processing time is longer than 10 minutes (see the Ball Company’s helpful FAQ for more information). The longer answer is that I often sterilize my jars, both out of habit and because hot jars are less likely than cold jars to break when placed in a boiling water bath. There’s no harm in it, and it doesn’t require any extra energy since you have to boil the water anyway. More importantly, it helps solidify your canning routine so that you’ll automatically remember to sterilize your jars when you really need to.

Long story short: it’s good practice, and harmless, but probably not strictly necessary so long as you’re processing for 10 minutes or more.

Q. Last week I canned a few quarts of crushed and whole tomatoes. I thought I had done everything correctly, including [...]]]> Ask the Goats is a weekly feature in which we attempt to answer your questions about growing, making, preserving, and eating food. Got a question for the goats? Drop us a line at dorisandjilly@gmail.com.

Q. Last week I canned a few quarts of crushed and whole tomatoes. I thought I had done everything correctly, including allowing proper headspace in my jars. However, after processing some of the jars leaked  some of their juices while cooling.  At first I was concerned, but it seemed that the jars had sealed properly so I cleaned them and put them away.  I checked on the jars yesterday and found that the two quarts of crushed tomatoes had leakage signs.  I tossed them out

A: Ah, siphoning—the canner’s bane. The problem you’ve described is fairly typical, especially in pressure canning (see this earlier Ask the Goats on a related problem). Whether you’re water-bath canning or pressure canning, the cause is the same: a sudden change in temperature or pressure can cause trapped air in the jars to suddenly expand, forcing liquids out. In a pressure canner, you can reduce the chance of the problem by leaving the jars to cool in the canner, but obviously, this strategy won’t work in the water-bath. What you can do is turn off the heat and take off the lid when the processing time is done, then wait five minutes. This cools things down a bit and reduces the chance that you’ll get siphoning without overcooking the product too much. I had never noticed this before your question, but it’s actually the strategy recommended in many canning books, including the Ball Blue Book and Put ‘Em Up.

The main danger from siphoning is that it can interfere with your seal. If this is the case, refrigerate or reprocess them. Depending on their contents, you might even be able to add more liquid before trying again. If you do get a seal, the jars are safe, but you’ll want to eat them first, as they’ll be more prone to oxidation. Again, this isn’t a safety issue, but a quality issue.

As for preventing the problem in the first place: siphoning is much more likely to happen in liquid-y products (peaches in  light syrup, pickled peppers, tomatoes in water, etc.) than in thick, gloppy canned goods (jams, chutneys, relishes). Be sure to remove air bubbles, and watch that headspace. Then cross your fingers, spin three times, and hum.

That plan backfired. Instead, I grabbed a jar of hot corn relish [...]]]>
The October CanJam focused on peppers. Though I thought about doing jars and jars of pickled peppers (and in fact put up one basic jar Monday night, following Marisa’s instructions over at Food in Jars), I wanted something more interesting. More creative. More original.

That plan backfired. Instead, I grabbed a jar of hot corn relish from the basement (canned a couple of weeks ago), gussied it up for its close-up, and called it a day. The recipe is the same one I made last year, which is basically a marginally modified version of the Ball Blue Book’s recipe.

I’ve been struggling with the CanJam for a couple of months, but haven’t really been able to put my finger on what was bothering me until now. This was about more than a lack of ideas for peppers. I’ve mentioned before that I’m a fairly utilitarian canner—I put up what we’ll eat and what I’d like to give away. While there’s some room in my cupboard for goodies like lavender lemon fig jam, what I really want is a wall full of canned tomatoes, a shelf of dried peaches, and a freezer full of kale. Food preservation takes a certain amount of time and effort, and I want the things that I preserve to be reliable, predictable, and flexible in their use. Canning carrots for the sake of learning how to carrots (I know, I know, I was the one who announced that train wreck) doesn’t really hold my interest.

Hence my recent somewhat uninspired entries in the CanJam. I like and trust my salsa verde and hot corn relish; therefore, I make them again and again, year after year. I love reading about all the creative and novel things that other people are doing for their entries for the CanJam, but by this time of year all I want to do is to get my canning done. Next year, I’ll go through the various round-ups and pick a few new things to experiment with, and hopefully I’ll find some new favorites.

Don’t mistake me—I’m thrilled that the CanJam has brought together such a fantastic community of online canners, and I’m absolutely loving all the new blogs that the Tigress’s monthly wrap-ups have turned me on to. But I’m very glad there are only two months left. And I don’t want to end up with green ketchup.

So what about you? Still making up new stuff, or back to the tried-and-true?

Q. I made a beef stew in a 350°F oven. That’s hotter than a water bath, so why can’t I just can the stew as is? Why [...]]]> Ask the Goats is a (mostly) weekly feature in which we, the goats, attempt to answer your food preservation questions. Got a question? Drop us a line at dorisandjilly@gmail.com.

Q. I made a beef stew in a 350°F oven. That’s hotter than a water bath, so why can’t I just can the stew as is? Why do I need a pressure canner?—anon (to me, anyway) via Kaela at Local Kitchen

A. This is a great question, just at that point where common sense bumps up against the laws of physics. We say, over and over again, that the heat of a water-bath canner is not sufficient to kill off the kinds of nasties (botulism, I’m looking at you) that can live in low-acid, anerobic environments (i.e., beef stew). But, obviously, a 350°F oven is much hotter than the 212°F of boiling water. So, what’s the problem?

The problem has to do with what’s inside the stew pot. When an oven thermometer reads 350°F, that means that the air temperature is 350°F. Your stew, on the other hand, is going to be hovering at its boiling point. This is a consequence of what’s called the Phase Change Law, which says (more or less), that a substance will maintain the temperature at which it changes phase until the phase change is complete. Water melts at 32°F, and it boils at 212°F. If you put a pot of boiling water in the oven, it’s not going to get above 212°F until all of the water has turned to steam. Then, and only then, can the temperature start increasing.

Now, in beef stew, you’ve got a liquid that, depending on what it has in it (water, wine, stock, etc.) is boiling probably somewhere between 190°F and 212°F. But you’ve also got solids that are probably at a lower temperature. Think of what happens when you put a large roast in the oven. You might cook it for hours, and it might still be at 150°F. All of which is to say that your beef stew is nowhere near 240°F.

But how does the pressure canner do it? Well, when I said that a substance that’s changing phase will maintain an even temperature, that’s not quite true. It will maintain an even temperature under conditions of constant volume and pressure. Crank up the pressure, and the temperature goes up. And hence, safe canning conditions for low acid foods.

Want more canning advice? Check out the liveblogging stream from the panel on canning, preserving, and foraging that I participated in with Marisa from Food in Jars, Hank from Hunter Angler Gardener Cook, and Sean from Punk Domestics at last weekend’s BlogHerFood conference in San Francisco. I had a blast, and I hope those in attendance found it as informative as I did entertaining.

Q. Hi. I am not new to canning. But something happened this year that has never happened before. [...]]]> Ask the Goats is a weekly series in which we attempt to answer your questions about growing, making, eating, and preserving food. Got a question for the goats? Drop us a line at dorisandjilly@gmail.com.

Q. Hi. I am not new to canning. But something happened this year that has never happened before. I canned 16 quarts of vegetable soup. I used the water bath method and processed them for 1 hour. I checked the seals and they were good. One week later the lids started pinging. What went wrong? That was an awful lot of work to throw away. I am very disgusted. P.S. My salsa, peach preserves, strawberry jam are all sealed and delicious.—Mary

A. Alas, Mary, vegetable broth is a low-acid food, and therefore not safe for water-bath canning. For the purposes of canning, all foods are either high-acid or low-acid foods. The kinds of food-born pathogens that can live in a high-acid environment can be killed fairly easily with moderate heat, so you can process them in a boiling water bath. Low-acid foods, on the other hand, can harbor botulism spores that are not destroyed at 212°F. Low-acid foods must be processed in a steam pressure canner that can reach much higher temperatures (usually 240ºF).

Remember, only fruits (excluding tomatoes, figs, green mangoes, and white peaches) and certain kinds of fermented pickles are acidic enough for water-bath canning without adding acid. For everything else, you have to either acid—sometimes in substantial quantities—or use a pressure canner.

Pressure can vegetable stock just as you would chicken stock (for step-by-step directions, click here). The Ball Blue Book recommends 35 minutes for quarts at 10 pounds pressure. If you don’t have a pressure canner, you’ve got to freeze it.

In happier news, the winner of the Put ‘Em Up! giveaway is Amanda Nelson, who’s new to canning and expecting twins! I think your strategy to put up as many nibble-ables as possible is an excellent strategy.