Summertime In A Jar: Blackberry Jam

Blackberry jam. Pure goodness. A rare and precious thing.

One of the most poignant and bittersweet memories in my childhood is of steaming vats of water in an already-steamy, un-airconditioned rustic kitchen, used first to slip tomatoes of their paper-thin skins and then to boil Ball jars filled with said tomatoes, chopped, until the satisfying “pop” of a vacuum jar meant they were safe to store. These bright red jewels (and others, like blackberry jam, and strawberry, too) lined the shelves of the stone steps that led to a dirt basement under the kitchen and ensured a winter’s worth of sauce and a fresh burst of summer flavor on even the bleakest days.

I was a reluctant helper. It seems the sauce always popped when I passed by, burning my skin, or the tomatoes were stubborn in their skins. Mostly I passed through the kitchen as quickly as possible, fleeing to books or shady spots on our wooded property, ever-mindful of snakes.

These days I understand better the value of those jewel-toned jars.

They represent plenty, excess even, so much abundance that it must be stored away. They guard against want on short days with not much sun and preserve a summer’s effort so that you can slide into those lazy days when there is two feet of snow on the ground outside the window.

Blackberry jam is one of the first products of early summer, ready before tomatoes bent the shoulder-high tomato plants under their weight. Gathered carefully, ever mindful of snakes that enjoyed resting on their ample leaves, blackberries turned into sweet-tart blackberry jam are one of life’s best pleasures.

My lovely friend Martha of Full Moon Acupuncture has happy blackberry vines in her Baltimore backyard and is generous with them This blackberry jam is made with only three ingredients: blackberries, sugar, and lemon juice. Because blackberries are naturally high in pectin, it is not necessary in this recipe for low-sugar blackberry jam.

The formula for blackberry jam is simple if you want a stereotypical batch: weigh your blackberries and use an equal amount of sugar. For me, this results in sickly-sweet jam that tastes more of sugar than sunshine-y blackberries. For this recipe, I weighed my berries and used half that amount of sugar. You could use even less for a low- or no-sugar blackberry jam, but that would take longer on the stove.

Low-Sugar Blackberry Jam

(makes five half pints, plus a little leftover)

Weighing your blackberries is the best option here, as cup measurements are challenging. I use half as much sugar as blackberries – it’s a good formula for a juicy, blackberry-forward, low-sugar blackberry jam.

Ingredients

Just over six cups of blackberries, by weight (50 ounces)

Just under 3 cups of sugar, by weight (20 ounces)

Two tablespoons lemon juice

Method

If you are planning on water bath processing your jam, get your jars ready first. Wash jars and lids in warm, soapy water while you bring a stockpot of water to boil on the stove. Boil clean jars for two minutes, then move to a clean dish towel. Dip lids, ladles, and anything else you will use in the canning process into the boiling water and set aside.

Put a clean plate in the freezer to test the blackberry jam for doneness. This will become clear soon.

Place blackberries, sugar, and lemon juice in another large pot (leave lots of headspace for the jam to foam). Mash slightly and bring to a boil.

Play something nice on the radio, or load up a podcast. Lower heat to medium low, and stir as the jam boils/simmers. Stir the foam down as it rises.

Over time, your jam will stop foaming, become glossy, and thicken substantially. This could take between 20 to 30 minutes. Be patient. Be attentive. Take this as an opportunity to be mindful.

To see if your jam is ready, remove the frozen plate from the freezer and spoon a bit of jam onto it. Let cool for a couple minutes, then drag a finger through the jam. If it makes a path that does not get filled immediately by liquid-y jam, it’s ready to can.

If the path fills in with blackberry jam, keep boiling and stirring. Wash the plate, dry completely, and put it back in the freezer. Test after another ten minutes until the path your finger makes stays clear.

Ladle blackberry jam into prepared jars, leaving ¼” headspace. If you are not planning on water bath processing, set aside and let cool at room temperature without moving overnight, then move to the ‘fridge or freezer.

To water bath can, heat a large stockpot of water to boiling. Carefully lower the jars of blackberry jam into the boiling water (make sure the water is at least an inch above the jars). Boil for five minutes, then remove to cool on the counter overnight. Listen for the lid to “pop,” indicating a seal. This might take a full 24 hours. If the lids don’t pop, you could either remove the lid, add a new one, and reprocess, or you can place in the freezer or ‘fridge.

Blackberry jam is good in the ‘fridge for a couple weeks (maybe more, depending on how much sugar you used), and correctly processed for years.

Recipe Notes

You could make a sugar-free blackberry jam with sweet berries and lots of time, too. Keep the lemon juice to brighten up your berry flavor.

For a blackberry jam recipe with pectin, follow the directions on the pectin package for best results.

If you prefer a seedless jam, strain the jam after it thickens and before pouring into jars. This is a bit of an arduous task but results in a silky-smooth jam.

Go even further and add a tablespoon of fresh lavender to the jam and let it cool slightly before straining again and processing as desired.

Baltimore, I Cain’t Quit You: Of Fruit Horses and Strawberry Freezer Jam

Open jar of mixed berry jam on faded wood.
Simple and delicious, every time.

Any time I get to feeling pretty low about Baltimore, like I maybe don’t want to stay here or I need to run away for a long time, something quintessentially Baltimore happens.

Tonight our local arabber* came through with his rhythmic jingle and frisky horse. He has been a fixture this spring, more so than in years past, but I never seem to have cash or need for vegetables or fruit when he hollers his way past my house. Tonight was different – I had both – and so slipped into my Converse, grabbed my dollars, and headed outside.

As I walked up, he was finishing with another customer, who was taking a picture of her young charge as he barely kept it together sitting on top of the horse. Once the kid slid down, he turned to me. I asked the arabber if he had any strawberries. He sighed, reached over the top of his fruit and handed me a pound that looked slightly worse for the wear.

“I just gave her all my berries,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and looking disappointed. “They was getting on. Don’t me wrong – some of them is still good. Go ask her for some. Let’s go ask her. I’ll hold your hand, and we’ll go ask.”

He grabbed my hand and we walked across the street, where the previous customer was already waiting with three more pounds of strawberries in her hands.

“I can’t use ’em all,” she said. “How many you want?”

“Put ’em in pancakes, or something,” the arabber said. “They still good.”

And waving off my offer of money, he simply said, “That’s just what you do for people.”

Baltimore is this scrappy little city that can’t find an honest mayor, likes to keep its races segregated, and has a hard time holding onto police chiefs.

But it’s also a city of 238 neighborhoods, neighborhoods that sometimes come together in ways that expose our shared humanity and the value of simple human kindness and generosity. Maybe I am grasping at straws(berries), but it was a beautiful, unexpected bounty that went beyond a standard bit of commerce.

So I came home with a warm heart and four pounds of strawberries, most of which, if I’m being honest (which I always try to be), were no good. I hulled and cut up the good ones and bundled the rest up for the chickens at The City Ranch (where I volunteer) – they will come running and be thrilled at the turn their morning takes when the strawberries come tumbling down.

The good ones made this small batch, use-it-up refrigerator/freezer jam that would make my Depression-era grandmother proud. Could not be simpler, and it is great for those who don’t want to make massive batches of fresh jam.

Some days, this city is a really great place to be.

Strawberry Freezer Jam

Ingredients

1 pound fresh fruit (strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries)

1 cup sugar

3 tablespoons lemon juice

Method

Clean the fruit. If you are using strawberries, roughly chop them, but otherwise, leave every other kind whole.

Place a small plate in the freezer. This will become clear shortly (or you could read through the whole recipe – always a good idea).

Combine fruit and all other ingredients in a heavy, high-sided saucepan and bring to a rolling boil for 20 minutes. You are looking for the jam to thicken a bit, but it will still be fairly thin while it’s hot.

A test: spoon a small amount of jam on the cold plate and let sit for two minutes. Drag a finger though the jam. If it stays separated, it’s ready. Otherwise, give it another couple minutes and check again.

Once it’s a good thickness, scoop into clean jars (any size, really) and set on the counter to come to room temperature before popping onto the freezer or refrigerator. If you freeze (up to four months), leave plenty of room for expansion. Otherwise, this fresh, delicious jam lasts for up to two weeks in the ‘fridge.

*For more on arabbers, read this excellent longform article on how arabbers are a dying (and crucial) part of city life in Baltimore, and watch this 2004 documentary We Are Arabbers to see them in action.