Doing the Can-Can

Note: this picture was taken early in the
canning day when smiles still abounded.

On Saturday we canned tomatoes. That simple phrase really doesn't do it justice.

3 bushels (with a cumulative of 1/2 a bushel being rotten, thank goodness!!)

58 jars.

19+ hours in total. (15 hours on Saturday, 2 on Sunday and Monday)

Rene made me take an oath that I would never buy that much of anything again. I solemnly swore, never again.

It all started with some salsa. Last year I whipped up a batch yielding a few jars of a friend's recipe that almost lasted us the year. The girls loved it, even more than store-bought (which says a lot) so needless to say I was more than willing to cook some up for my loving fans, this time enough to last until next tomato season. However, last year I was late on the uptake, I missed the bulk tomato season and bought the wrong type of tomatoes by the pound. When I saw the local grocery store with bushels of the "right" type of tomato my heart skipped a beat and I knew it was time. My mind thought, 3 bushels should do it, and if I need more I can always come back.

4 batches of salsa later there was a whole lot of tomatoes still sitting there. I don't think we had even used a full bushel. I'd recently read an article that canned tomatoes really weren't that great for you, something about the acidity reacting with the tin of the can. Great. I called up a friend who had sworn off canning to see if I could exchange her unused jars for a couple of homemade salsa. 24 jars of diced tomatoes later, there was still a whole lot of tomatoes still sitting there, and I was once again out of jars.

A quick run to a 24 hour Sobey's (at this point we were well beyond local stores still being open) and Rene returned with an additional 24 jars. I thought I'd mix it up a bit and try some tomato sauce. I found a recipe online that seemed yummy, and that I conveniently had all the spices for, and went about whipping up a batch of that. 8 jars later, still a whole lot of tomatoes sitting there.

At this point we were spent. It was midnight. We were tired...and both a little nauseous from inhaling fumes of cooking tomatoes all day. With 1/2 a bushel still left we called it a night. I sent my helper packing and tackled the last couple hours of waiting for diced tomatoes to finish up in their water baths.

I think I fell a little more in love with Rene that day. I knew he was a hard worker when it came to things like cutting wood, home renovations, building furniture and other "manly" crafts that he's so good at. But watching him wield a paring knife, wearing an apron, in the kitchen ALL day and night, boiling, de-skinning, de-seeding, and dicing tomatoes, willingly running off to fetch jars and other canning supplies we ran out of made me realize what kind of man he really is. One who loves me enough to spend his only day off in the kitchen with me dealing with my over-zealous-ambitious-tomato-canning-3-bushel vision. Never once did he complain.

Sunday, I was still spent. After returning home late from a  family birthday bash the house was a disaster and dishes were piled high on the counter. I crashed, leaving that lovely husband of mine doing the dishes (which, in my defense, I did say I would do in the morning because I knew how tired he was too).

When I woke in the morning, the site in the kitchen made me cry. And that's not a small feat. Not only were all the dishes done, 1/2 a bushel of tomatoes sat on the counter, peeled and diced. The garbage was even sitting at the curb with all the rotten tomatoes tucked in the green bin. I spent the morning finishing up the canning, put on some labels and hauled our harvest down to the food storage.

I also have to acknowledge my other trusty helpers. I wish I had taken more pictures but my hands were kind of slimy most of the day and I didn't want to seem like a slacker leisurely snapping photos of my family working hard. Amelia, Evelyn and Audree all had their hands in peeling and de-seeding. Amelia helped chop fresh herbs from our garden for the sauce. And Lucienne mostly stayed out of trouble, which is all we could really ask of her.

I'm thinking of asking for a pressure cooker for Christmas (hint-hint).