Grape Jelly

GRAPE JELLY




When dear wife and I have a meal at a restaurant chain I always the look into the jar of pre-packaged jellies. If I see that the contents are of the standard mix (grape and strawberry), I whisper to her that “this is a low-budget outfit.” However, if the mix contains marmalade, blackberry, boysenberry or the like I opine that “this is a class outfit.”

I know that many of you readers have a fondness for grape jelly because you were raised on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I prefer my peanut butter straight up, thank you. Grape jelly is not for me and thereby hangs a tale.

My distaste has its roots in a great Depression story as follows: When my mother's Uncle Hugh's wife Jennie died, in the early 30s Uncle Hugh insisted that my mother have the one hundred jars of grape jelly that Aunt Jennie had “put up” during World War One years. My mother reluctantly agreed, not that she liked grape jelly but because she loved her uncle. In addition, the jellies would help her food budget.

After my father lugged those heavy jars home we teenagers (sister Jane and myself) were charged with opening the jars for inspection while seated outside on our backyard brick walk. The first jar opened contained more mold than jelly, as did jar number two, number three and so on.”Whoa”, said mother, “we can't eat that stuff so just spoon all of it down the nearest drainpipe. Then she added with a half smile,”Of course we won't tell uncle about this, will we?” Without a thought of the ecological consequences hose it down we did.

So, dear reader, if you are into “home canning” please rotate your inventory so that the freshly preserved food stays that way. If you have an “auntie” that loves to “put up” food don't wait for her demise to enjoy it but try some NOW,especially if it is grape jelly.

More, later.