A Little Preserving Book for a Little Girl
Amy Waterman
Amy Waterman
A Little Preserving Book for a Little Girl
CHAPTER I
MARMALADES
There were two long and very wide shelves, besides a good-sized bench that had a shelf underneath, in mother's preserve closet. Before these stood two little girls, Jessie May and Adelaide.
Jessie May was Adelaide's most intimate friend, who had been away the whole summer long. To be sure, they had written to one another regularly, and in each letter that Adelaide sent to Jessie May she hinted at a wonderful secret. Now they were together again, the one longing to hear and the other eager to tell the wonderful secret.
"You see," said Adelaide, pointing proudly to the bench and its shelf underneath, "this is all my work, the other (indicating the two long and very wide shelves) is mother's."
Jessie May gasped, for the top of the bench and the underneath shelf had every spare inch covered with jars of jams, jellies, preserves, pickles, vegetables, etc.
"Why, Adelaide! You couldn't,—I mean, how could you?" hastily corrected Jessie May, for she wouldn't for the world have Adelaide think she doubted her word.
"Well," said Adelaide, "let's go upstairs and I'll tell you how it all happened."
When the two little girls were comfortably seated on the back porch the great secret was disclosed, and mother, busy in the kitchen, smiled to herself at their very evident enjoyment. Jessie May was all interest, and you may be sure that Adelaide did not neglect even the smallest detail. She poured out her very soul. In fact, mother learned a good many things that morning about her small daughter's thoughts that she had hardly realized before, until she overheard them being laid bare to Jessie May.
Of course, Adelaide always told mother everything, but it was usually the result of her thoughts, and not the process of thinking. You see, Adelaide had been trained to think for herself, so in one way it was not surprising to hear her tell Jessie May that for two or three years she had been longing to help "preserve."
She told Jessie May it was the "great war" that made her decide she surely was old enough to begin, because she had read of so many little girls who were helping in all sorts of ways to "conserve" and "preserve."
"But," she said, "the thing that really started me was Daddy's fondness for orange marmalade, and his disappointment when we came to the end of mother's supply. It was way back last March," Adelaide continued, and then went on to explain how mother had said that she would make some at once, as it was the very best month of the year to make marmalade. At that season the "Valencia" oranges, "Mediterranean Sweets," and Seville oranges were on the market, all of which had the special flavor most desirable for orange marmalade.
"So mother bought the oranges and lemons and grapefruit," said Adelaide, "and then she was so busy that she couldn't begin to make it at once. Well, I thought Daddy ought to have his marmalade, so I said, 'why can't I make it, mother?' And, just think, Jessie May, mother let me!" exclaimed the excited little girl.
Jessie May took a deep, deep breath, for during Adelaide's recital she had hardly dared breathe, for fear of missing a single point of the story, and leaned back in her chair with a long drawn sigh. She was too full for words.
"The best part of it is," continued Adelaide, "that I have all of the recipes right here, Jessie May." (Adelaide then exhibited a small covered wooden box that she had been carefully guarding.)
Jessie May was very much interested in the little box, and eagerly looked over the neat little cards which the box contained, and on which the precious directions were to be found.
Jessie May wanted to see the one for orange marmalade, "Because," as she said, "it was really the first recipe you ever tried, Adelaide." Suddenly she exclaimed, "My goodness! did you only use two oranges and one lemon and a grapefruit? I shouldn't think they would make very much."
"Well, they did," replied Adelaide, "they made several small tumblers full, and, besides, you will notice that all my recipes are for small quantities, because mother did not want me to grow tired of my work but enjoy each new recipe as it came along, and I most certainly did," she ended.
Then the two little girls went into the kitchen, and Adelaide showed Jessie May the different things she used while preserving. There were not very many, and they were all easy to take care of. There was the aluminum kettle, just deep enough to hold a pint jar overflowing with water (the pint jar was the largest sized jar which Adelaide used) for sterilizing; a pair of scales; a jelly bag attached to a wire frame (which was very inexpensive), and could be slipped on to a bowl or saucepan so that the juice could drip slowly; a long wooden spoon; a silver tablespoon for skimming; a silver knife to insert in the jars to let the air bubbles rise to the top when filled with fruit; two half-pint glass measuring cups; a large aluminum funnel; a small round wire rack to put in the bottom of the saucepan to prevent the jars from touching bottom and to allow the water to flow under as well as over the top; a strawberry huller; a small sharp knife; a wire strainer; a colander; and a quart pitcher.
Adelaide told Jessie May that if she had forgotten anything she would be sure to find what was needed by referring to the proper card alphabetically arranged under "Utensils" in the precious little box.
When Adelaide commenced her lessons in preserving mother said that she would find many general rules to remember, which, if carefully followed, saved time and expense, and brought successful results.
Adelaide had sampled mother's preserves for some few years now, even though she was not so very old, and she knew the difference between jams, jellies, preserves, marmalades, conserves, etc., as far as taste was concerned, but the process of making was the pleasure she was eagerly anticipating. She began to feel "quite grown up" when mother told her to write down the following:
The preserve closet, where the fruit is to be stored, should be dark, dry and cool.
The jars and tumblers used should be properly sterilized. Then mother explained that to sterilize, you washed your jars and tumblers perfectly clean, placed them in a large pan (a dishpan would do) of clean cold water over the fire, and let boil gently for ten minutes. The jars would be less likely to crack if a wire or wooden rack was at the bottom of the pan for the jars to rest on. Also, the jars must have no nicks around the top, the covers must fit perfectly, and they should be left in the boiled water until ready to use.
After filling the jar to overflowing, insert a silver knife between the sides and fruit, to let the air bubbles rise to the top before sealing. Always use new rubbers every year, and dip them in boiling water before putting them smoothly on the jar.
Never stand a jar where a cold draft can reach it; let it stand over night upside down, to be sure there is no possible chance of its leaking.
The fruit used should be of the best quality, firm and not too ripe, and preserved as soon as possible after picking, to have the finest flavor.
Hands, utensils, fruit, etc. should be spotlessly clean.
A silver knife, fork, and spoon (or a wooden spoon) were the best articles to use in preparing or stirring the fruit, thus preventing discoloration.
Each jar should be thoroughly wiped on the outside with a clean damp cloth and labeled before putting away.
Marmalades, jams, and jellies, were sufficiently protected if covered with a coating of melted paraffin.
If you wanted nice clear jelly it must never be squeezed, but allowed to drip through a jelly bag made of a double thickness of cheesecloth, or a jelly bag that you can buy attached to a wire frame.
You could tell when the "jelly point" had been reached if a little poured on to a cold saucer began to set, or if the juice dropped as one mass from the side of a spoon, or when two drops ran together and fell as one from the side of the spoon.
Mother thought these ten "rules and regulations" were sufficient, and, of course, Adelaide agreed.
"Mother, please do not tell Daddy that I am going to make his marmalade for him," said Adelaide, busily preparing to begin.
"No, dear, I won't," responded mother, then added, "we'll keep it as a surprise."
Orange Marmalade
Mother told Adelaide to wash the oranges and lemons thoroughly and to wipe them dry, then, using the little sharp knife, cut the fruit into quarters, lengthwise. This made it easy to remove the seeds and cut out the thick parts of each center or core. For this Adelaide used a small, smooth board (in fact, it was the cover of a five-pound butter box) upon which to cut the fruit, and she sliced each quarter, peel and all, very, very thinly across (not lengthwise this time), then put them into a bowl until all were ready.
Adelaide was surprised to find that it took quite a long while to get these few prepared, and was glad she had not attempted too many.
Next, she measured the fruit, using the glass measuring cup, and poured the fruit into mother's four quart aluminum saucepan. In a separate pan Adelaide measured as many cups of sugar as she had had of fruit. Then to each cup of fruit Adelaide added two cups of boiling water, covered the saucepan, and let it stand for twenty-four hours.
This completed her work for that day, except for the clearing away of the things with which she had finished.
The next morning Adelaide removed the cover from the saucepan containing the fruit and put the saucepan on the stove. While the fruit was coming to the boiling point, Adelaide brought a number of tumblers from the preserve closet. These she washed thoroughly and stood in a large pan in which had been placed a wire rack. Then, being covered with cold water, they were put on the stove to be sterilized, or, in other words, boiled. This was to kill all germs and to prevent the spoiling of the fruit when put away.
When the fruit began to boil, mother told Adelaide to look at the clock, and then let it boil for one hour (not too hard), or until the peel of the oranges and lemons was very tender. In the meantime, the sugar had been placed at the back of the range to heat through, and as soon as the fruit had boiled sufficiently, the sugar was added gradually. The marmalade was then allowed to boil until a little dropped on a cold saucer would begin to jell. After the sugar was added, Adelaide stirred the mixture every few minutes with a long-handled wooden spoon.
You could not always tell just how long it would take for the marmalade to jell, as oranges and lemons differ so, but mother said it was safer to allow an hour, and if it was cooked in less time you felt that so much time had been gained.
As soon as the marmalade was done, the saucepan was lifted to the back of the range. Adelaide then took a long-handled spoon and lifted the tumblers out of the boiling water on to a tray, and filled them at once with the marmalade. Mother happened to have a small glass cup, not a regular measuring cup but smaller, which proved the very thing with which to dip out the marmalade.
As Adelaide, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining, stood filling the tumblers with the golden marmalade, mother said, "Well, dear, was it worth the work (for it is a great deal of work, you see) and effort?"
"Oh mother, I'm so proud and happy now, that I've almost forgotten how hot and tired I felt while stirring the marmalade and waiting for it to jell," answered Adelaide.