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?

I had a nice visit with my mom. I played a lot of piano. I wrote (but not enough). I edited (more than enough). I cooked lots of boring, repetitive things that used stuff in the freezer. I gardened nearly continuously.

Somehow, I [...]]]> Let’s see. What did I do the past month, while I was on blog and Twitter and Facebook hiatus?

I had a nice visit with my mom.
I played a lot of piano.
I wrote (but not enough).
I edited (more than enough).
I cooked lots of boring, repetitive things that used stuff in the freezer.
I gardened nearly continuously.

Somehow, I suspect only this last one is of interest to you, loyal readers (you may think you want to know what I did with all of those green beans and corn and CSA pork in the freezer, but—trust me—you don’t). The garden has been my salvation this spring. Winter was long and rough, but playing in the dirt has done me a world of good.

And lordy, but I have a lot of dirt!

Garden 1:

This is my 4′x11′ or so plot at St. Bernard Community Garden, a lovely little spot on a vacant lot in West Philadelphia. It’s my third year in this plot, and I’m finally getting the hang of the space, the light, and the seasons. If everything goes as planned, I should be able to do a full spring, summer, and fall crop. Not that you can see the darling seedlings, but from front to back, there’s:

snap peas
snow peas
leeks (overwintered)
kohlrabi
red beets
turnips
yellow beets
more red beets
carrots
arugula, lettuces, and spinach
kale (overwintered)
radishes

The plan is to put in tomatoes when the lettuces, etc., start to go, and possibly put in sweet potatoes after the first round of beets et al. Or maybe just plant more beets. I love beets.

Garden 2:

This is my brand new, enormous plot at an undisclosed vacant lot very convenient to my house. I inherited it from a neighbor who had enthusiastically planted lots and lots of bulbs in years past. So far, I’ve managed to extract (and save!) the tulips, day lillies, and daffodils from the middle section, but you can see the irises lurking there in the back. Once the irises bloom, baby, they’re outta here.

The big middle section is currently empty, awaiting cucumbers, zucchini, and winter squash come warmer weather. The front section is full of cabbage-family plants: bok choi, more kale, broccoli raab, broccoli, cauliflower, red cabbage, and Brussel sprouts. In other words: I’m sticking above ground with this garden until I’ve had at least a full season to work the soil.

And finally…

A big thanks for the folks at Hometown Seeds, who sent me this space-age “Survival Pack” of non-GMO, non-hybrid seeds. So far, every seed I’ve started in my peat pots has germinated, so I’m impressed. Supposedly the pack will last 10 years unopened in your freezer if, you know, you’re worried about, um, the future. Or something. But seriously: they’re good seeds.

So go play in the dirt! You’ll feel better, and, in July, you’ll be glad you did.

No contest.

The canned applesacue is sooooo much better than the frozen. It has excellent texture, a [...]]]>
Last year, you may recall, I made a lot of applesauce. When I had time, I canned it; when I was lazy, I just stuck it in the freezer. Nine months later, we’ve been eating lots of each. The results?

No contest.

The canned applesacue is sooooo much better than the frozen. It has excellent texture, a great taste, and you don’t have to remember to thaw it. The freezer applesauce is…well…gummy. It’s fine to bake with, but I’d only eat it in a pinch. I suppose it’s possible that all of the gummy apples ended up in the freezer batches, but that seems highly unlikely, no?

If you, too, want to can applesauce, you have some choices. The National Center for Home Food Preservation says 15 minutes for pints and 20 minutes for quarts in a boiling water bath. If you’d rather use a pressure cooker, they recommend 8 minutes for pints, 10 minutes for quarts, both at 5 pounds of pressure. When I’ve done this, I’ve always used 10 pounds of pressure for 0 minutes, which seems to work pretty well, too, but note that you do so at your own risk.

(Thanks to relaxing for the photo, via Flickr.)

IgnitePhilly was awesome! Thanks so much to the crew for inviting me, to all of you who came out to pack the room, and to the other presenters for putting on such a great show. There was so much clamour and din at Johnny [...]]]>

(Thanks to relaxing for the photo, via Flickr.)

IgnitePhilly was awesome! Thanks so much to the crew for inviting me, to all of you who came out to pack the room, and to the other presenters for putting on such a great show. There was so much clamour and din at Johnny Brenda’s that several conversations got cut short, so this post is my attempt to answer your questions. Please drop me a line at dorisandjilly@gmail.com if you have others.

Do you teach classes?

Sure! I can do interactive classes on water-bath canning, pressure canning, and pressure cooking for groups of 6 to 12. If you have more than 12 people, it will be more of a demonstration, but we can talk about it. Just drop me a line (and remember that I’m in Philadelphia).

Where do you get the jars?

Hardware stores. They used to be harder to find, but there’s been so much interest in canning this year that stores are keeping them in stock. If you don’t see them, talk to the manager. You’re asking for “canning jars and lids.” The typical sizes are half-pint (aka, jelly jars), pint, and quart. They also come in regular and wide-mouth styles. If you’re new to canning and plan to use a stock pot for your water bath, regular-mouth pint jars will be the most useful size.

What’s the process, again?

Check out this post on rhubarb compote and this one on canning chicken stock for step-by-step instructions. If you’re interested in the USDA’s safety regulations and the philosophy of canning, check out this entry on the basics of canning tomatoes.

But aren’t canned things all syrupy?

Well, that depends on what you put in the jars, now, doesn’t it?

Fruit’s expensive!

No it’s not. Strategies to save money here.

5 pounds ripe, yet firm, pears Sugar syrup, at your preferred level of sweetness (I like 1 sugar: 2 water) Several cups brandy

1) Put on a pot for a boiling water bath and sterilize your jars. I used 2 quarts and 2 pints. Life will be easier if you use wide-mouth [...]]]>
Like regular canned pears, only drunk.

Brandied Pears

5 pounds ripe, yet firm, pears
Sugar syrup, at your preferred level of sweetness (I like 1 sugar: 2 water)
Several cups brandy

1) Put on a pot for a boiling water bath and sterilize your jars. I used 2 quarts and 2 pints. Life will be easier if you use wide-mouth jars. Heat up appropriate lids to match.

2) Heat up (or make) your simple syrup.

3) Peel and core your pears. Stuff them as tightly as possible into the jars, cut-side down. Pour 1 c. brandy into each of the quart jars and 1/2 c. brandy into each of the pint jars. Top them off with syrup. Run a spatula or knife around the edges to remove air bubbles, then add more syrup if necessary.

4) Screw on the lids and transfer the jars to the hot water bath. Process pints 20 minutes and quarts 25 minutes.

Let these sit for at least a month before opening to allow the flavors to pervade the fruit. Eat them on their own or over ice cream, and don’t forget the best part: pear brandy. You could boil it down to make a sauce, if you wanted, or just serve it in little tiny portions as a digestif.

I’d give you drying times, but they’re sort of meaningless, since it depends on the variety, the thickness of the fruit, the ambient temperature, and how you plan to store [...]]]>
The problem with dehydrated fruit is that the people who live with you tend to eat it before winter comes. The only solution? Dehydrate more fruit.

I’d give you drying times, but they’re sort of meaningless, since it depends on the variety, the thickness of the fruit, the ambient temperature, and how you plan to store them. What I can tell you is that you’ll get happier results if you leave the fruit in large pieces, even if it increases the drying time to 24–36 hours. The pears were pared, cored, and cut lengthwise into four pieces; same goes for the peaches; the plums were just cut in half. In any case, I wouldn’t go any thinner than 3/8″.

Visual cues may be more helpful.

This is what the plums looked like raw:

And this is what they looked like halfway through:

(Bonus: note changing light quality in afternoon vs. morning!)

The plums are done when they look like prunes. Both the pears and the peaches should be flexible, but not moist. Pop them in jars, label them, and hide them well.