I had been perusing The Ball Complete Book of Home Preserving for several days, eagerly turning the pages and dreaming of what might be stored in my pantry like someone else might look through a fashion magazine in hopes of adding to their wardrobe. I’m not sure if its all the canning parties I have been reading about or other people’s stories, but I have been so looking forward to putting up some of the bounty of these beautiful days.

While I learned a lot about cooking from my mom and step-mother, I don’t ever remember them doing any canning. My first experience was canning jam with some friends in Vermont and for the past several years I have been experimenting with preserving different fruits and veggies. I can’t wait until I have my own harvest to keep for the winter, but for now its been great to pick-my-own and buy from local farmers.

I made an initial dent in my huge crate of tomatoes by canning salsa. I chopped and chopped tomatoes, onions, peppers, and cilantro. I stirred and added spices and salt. I can’t say exactly what it is, its not magic, but there is something so rewarding and exciting about this hard work over a hot stove. Around here, they say firewood warms you twice (at least) from stacking to burning. In the same way, canning feeds me so many times. The smells, tastes, textures and colors fill the kitchen on a warm sunny afternoon with an open window bringing a soft breeze. Later I will grab a jar from the cupboard and the tastes and smells will enter the kitchen again for a winter meal that will feed me and fill me with warmth beyond my belly. I can’t explain why food is so much more than just something to assuage hunger or even provide a mouth-watering taste. Canning and preserving taps into connection: the all important element of food and eating. It brings a connection to the future and the past, to the people who grew the ingredients and those who will eat it, to those who prepare it and those who receive it.