Lindsey Dawson - The Joy Of Jam

Courtesy of Lindsey Dawson.

It was Lynda Hallinan, editor of NZ Gardener magazine, who alerted me to a new term of derision.  Talking on a TV breakfast show, she offered viewers some gardening tips that were good for people who didn’t want to be seen as ‘consumerist’. Now that was a good poke in the ribs for 2009. Until now, few mainstream commentators have denigrated anyone for consuming stuff.

Shopping was, after all, what kept the world’s economy humming. But now, if you consume in any way luxuriously, you’re seen to be in denial of the fact the world’s on a big downer, cash wise.  (Of course if we really stop consuming then it will make things even worse, but that’s an argument for later.)

Meanwhile, whether we’re being forced to cut back on spending, or just think it’s smart to be prudent, most households are thinking thifty. We’re beginning to hear of friends and family losing jobs, and many of us are seeing our own incomes shrink and assets diminish.

For those of us who’ve been around a while, it’s nothing new. But for the young, it’s a shock. If you’re 20, or even 30-something, you simply cannot remember a financial downturn in your whole entire life.

But there’s a good side to the gloom. Old hobbies and interests are returning. Vege gardens are popping up all over the suburbs, being nurtured by people who were previously only interested in growing the playlist on their MP3s. Of course, whether this summer’s happy tomato pluckers will still be out there turning over cold, mucky ground in midwinter remains to be seen.

And, much to my surprise, I’ve been playing old kitchen games again. I hadn’t preserved anything for decades. But this summer there are jars of my own strawberry and apricot jam in the pantry, and some tasty beetroot and lemon chutney too.

It was fun to make (except for the first apricot run, a disaster, which seriously burnt the bottom of the pot and was a total failure… I know, yes it was dumb, but the recipe didn’t say anything about keeping on stirring the stuff).

And it’s so nice to eat. I gave away most of the strawberry stuff at Christmas. ‘It’s tastes so different to store-bought jam,” marvelled those who got to spread it on their toast.

All the mucking about and burning of fingers and sterilising of jars brought back memories of my childhood, when my mum bottled fruit and made jam as a matter of course, like all the other good housewives of the era.   

How she hated those hot, sticky days in the kitchen. How grateful I was for all the consumerist years when I counted myself lucky to be relieved of that chore.

But how surprisingly pleased I am now to be filling my house with the scent of hot sugar and slapping labels on my recycled glass jars. I’m loving the glowing colours and pure flavours. But of course all my efforts to do better on the home front are hardly reducing the calorie consumption. And given that I spoiled one batch of jam, and that each kilo of apricots cost near to $10, it was hardly a cheap exercise either. But how can you say no when it tastes so good?  

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