I have included a friend's recipe for those who do canning. The flavor in wonderful. By including it, I wanted to change my usual ramblings into something more. I may include a recipe from time to time when it adds to the story.
Prepping For Memorial Day
Who would
have thought that I would almost get frost bite of the fingers on Memorial Day
weekend? It was cold, windy, and damp. The weather channel announced that there
would be the possibility of widespread frost. I had most of my garden already set out.
The tender plants would be very susceptible to the frost and would probably
die. There was no way I wanted all of my work to come to naught nor did I want
the added expense of replacing my tomatoes and pepper plants. The seeds I had sown
had not sprouted and were in no danger from the cold.
My garden is
about thirty-two by twenty-four feet. It’s not huge, but it’s all I want and
need. I planted twenty-six tomato plants: Heinz Hybrid, Roma, and a couple of
Beef steak. Twenty-nine pepper plants; California Wonder and Hot wax banana
peppers planting them in two rows. There is a reason for so many peppers. I want to can a
pepper mix that has many uses. A widowed lady
friend named Marie gave us the recipe. It had no name listed on the handwritten note, so we’ve always called it “Marie’s
Pepper Mix.” It is a great sauce to put over a beef roast as it cooks, to top a
hamburger straight out of the jar, or cooked with ground beef it makes a great
sloppy Joe.
In a large
pot or kettle, combine one large onion diced, one clove of garlic chopped, and
two kegs of ketchup. (Sixty-four ounces.) Slowly start to heat stirring in one
cup of sugar and one cup of oil. Adding twenty-five green peppers and thirty
hot wax banana peppers that have been cut into strips or coarsely chopped. (When we made it we made the pepper ratio about equal
parts to adjust the heat of peppers in the mix.)
Bring the
mixture to a boil, stirring frequently until the peppers start to soften. Ladle
while hot into clean pint jars, cap, and cold pack for fifteen to twenty
minutes.
The cold weather and the thought
of losing those plants caused me grief. I made newspaper tents for each one, folding and
stapling them. Out in the garden I placed one of the caps over each plant for
protection. I looked out of the bedroom window in the morning. I didn’t see any
frost, but the paper bonnets reminded me of boat sails on a chocolate sea. They
were still in place even after the brisk winds.
I needed to
finish mowing. The rain had interrupted me and had to quit about two thirds
done. I donned a heavy jacket, work gloves, and a cap with ear flaps. I was
ready to face the forty degree weather. I started my Toro riding lawn mower and
started mowing. The wind seemed to be lazy. It wanted to go through me and not
around. In the half hour I needed to finish the mowing, my fingers were stiff
and cold. The wind had blown the cold through the fabric of my gloves. I went
inside to wash my hands. The warm water stung my heat deprived fingers. After
forty-five minutes of thawing, they felt almost normal.
As I sat
relaxing, I remembered I had bought patriotic red, white, and blue bunting for
the railings of the front porch. I gathered the things that I needed and
carried them outside. I couldn’t wear glove to tie them into place and after
fifteen minutes, the bunting was hung and my fingers were again cold and stiff.
The yard and
the house looks good, but I felt like “Nanook of the North.”
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