Yes, we can

Peas and strawberries are ready for their starring role at the farmers' market, but they're just going to be the warm-up act for the thrilling abundance of fruits and vegetables July will bring. This won't last long, so we have to do what we can to preserve it. The take-away from the continuously bad news about industrial food should be that it's a shame to waste the fresh taste of farm picked, letting it go by when it could brighten not only your health but a dark winter day. Now's the time to stock up on jam and canning jars--or lids for recycled ones, because they get harder and harder to find as summer moves on.

Preserving food is not drudgery, more work you don't need. For one thing, it can actually be fun, a very educational activity with kids on a rainy day, or after dinner on a foggy summer night. Stir raspberries into vinegar, or blueberries into chutney, or tomatoes into spaghetti sauce-- your way, or soup for the freezer. Then comes the joy of finding summer in the frozen doldrums of February, and having warm memories with your food. Making jam is not rocket science, making chutney is even easier, and preparing, say, tomato soup or red pepper sauce for the freezer almost a no-brainer.

But the more important "do can" reason for putting up with putting up food is psychological. Long ago I started stashing summer away as necessity because the food supply in Maine was severely limited and my ability to get through blizzards to it just as crimped. So it was for health and well-being, but particularly for buttressing those with the mental relief of knowing I had food--honestly good food-- on hand.

Now of course gassed tomatoes from Florida and "organic" blueberries from Chile are available everywhere all the time, but my hoarding habit is so strong, I'm still obsessed with pickling, jamming and sauces. I just can't let the harvest go by unheralded. I want to go in the flow of traditional rhythms for human life, to be participating in the real world as it really is, networking with Nature. I find honoring the seasons, the naturalness, this way to be very grounding, thus mentally relaxing in many ways.

The psychology goes deeper though. The urge to can or jam recognizes that nothing satisfies the human soul as much as the sight of a full larder, a re-assuring supply of something to eat. Our survival absolutely depends on food, which is why people get edgy when there's not much to pick at or up, not a lot of canapes and cheese at cocktail parties, no meals on planes. It has been the great marketing trick of corporations like Whole Foods and tastemakers like Martha Stewart to understand that abundance not only relaxes and removes inhibitions, it creates the buoyancy of joy. Those who walk into a party full of food are full of social spirit and ripe for conversation. Those who open the door to a well stocked pantry smile, for now they have freedom to go to other pursuits.

I am talking about our sense of security. It starts with food. So it's worth twenty minutes here, a half hour there, a few dollars for some jars, to have your own snowy day edible savings. You will have something on hand, know exactly what you are eating and realize what great benefits the summertime farmers' market can offer you.

P.S. If you've never done this before, How to Fix a Leek and Other Food From Your Farmers' Markets has easy recipes for blueberry apple chutney perfect for Christmas ham, the cranberry conserve I've made for 30 years for Thanksgiving turkey and midwinter roast chicken, for marinara (tomato) sauce, for pickled asparagus and dilly beans (favorite cocktail party and picnic food), even raspberry vinegar, and hints for how to make strawberry jam. Think of them as your starter kit and then do your own thing. These efforts make surprisingly welcome gifts for your friends too. I actually have greedy ones who wait to pounce.