Jelly Making in a Clean Kitchen

Anyone who has ever been a guest at my dinner parties - or perhaps read this blog way back at its inception - knows that I struggle with maintaining a clean kitchen. I cook too much; I work too much; I overcommit my free time; I am always tired; and so on. Since the arrival of my dishwasher, I've actually been good about getting dishes and pans out of my sink. I'm also pretty decent about occasionally using Clorox wipes to keep the counters clean. But that's about all that I can manage.

At the end of March, a really good friend who was well-acquainted with my struggle texted me a photo of a business card for a young woman who had just cleaned her house. I knew I had to book her for my house - or at least my kitchen - but I never had the free time during business hours to make the phone call.

Finally, at the beginning of June, I clocked out of work for a few minutes to make the phone call, which led to an evening text conversation, which lead to an appointment for deep cleaning the downstairs, the entryway, and the two staircases. On the day of the appointment, I hid in my bedroom upstairs, shredding papers and planning my upcoming Summer Solstice party, while the lovely lady and her assistant did their thing downstairs. The scent of bleach wafted up to my hiding space, so I had high hopes for what the finished product would look like.

After about three hours, the woman knocked on my bedroom door to announce that they were done. I was very happy with the clean floors and the smell of bleach, so I thanked them profusely and they were off to their next job. It wasn't until after they left that I realized what fantastic work they did. The drip pans on my stove were no longer black. The stainless steel coffee pot was sparkling. The Brown Betty teapot that I had been using as a spoon rest while making frosting was spotless. The seat cushions on the couch had been rearranged to hide a stain, but were completely clean underneath. And dozens of other similar little details...

Of course, the quandary then became "How do I cook in such a clean kitchen?" I had a few cooking projects that I wanted to accomplish over the weekend, but I didn't want to completely destroy my newly cleaned kitchen.

The Jelly Project

When I was at the local orchard over Memorial Day, I bought a ten pound bag of baking grade Granny Smith apples with the intention of making Green Apple Pectin stock, which is a homemade alternative to commercial pectin. It is used to make jellies gel beautifully. I had used it to make Red Wine Jelly when I first started blogging about two years ago; that jelly was so good (and so easy) that I made it again within the month.

When I glanced over my current wine collection, there weren't any bottles that jumped out at me as good candidates to sacrifice for a batch of jelly. Except for one questionable white wine, it was all good drinking wine. So I turned to my canning book to see what other options there were for using the Green Apple Pectin. My other options were Champagne Jelly, Hibiscus Jelly, and Tea Jelly. Since my sole bottle of bubbly was a very good one and I didn't have a ready source of dried hibiscus flowers, I decided to make the Tea Jelly.

The next question I had to resolve was: what type of tea do I want to use for my jelly? I had at least half a cabinet shelf full of different teas, plus a wicker box that was almost still full of assorted tea bags. The only one that was clearly off the list was the ginger tea; that was repulsive when I used it to recipe test a Maple Ginger Toddy last year. I just hadn't had the heart to throw away the box yet. The recipe book recommended Earl Grey or oolong, but I had such a wonderful variety of loose teas from Stash and the boutique coffee shop two towns over, that I really didn't want to be so boring.

The five Stash teas posed a bit of an enigma. They were each in the same style dark green airtight tin to keep the tea fresh. Of course, I hadn't bothered to label any of them. So I had to open each tin and smell in order to ascertain what type of tea was inside. I was pretty sure that they were all caffeine free teas - most were pure herbal, but at least one was green tea based. So I started sniffing. The first one was a very pleasant hibiscus based herbal, but there was no way I could scrape the required six tablespoons of tea out of what little was left in the tin. Next up was a heavier tin that pleasantly smelled of licorice root. I liked that one as a possibility. That was followed by a tin that looked like chamomile flowers and smelled faintly of mint. It struck me as possibly being too delicately flavored to use for a jelly. Another heavy tin followed; it looked like green tea and smelled like Christmas, which made it too a good possibility. The final tin smelled like a lovely chai mix; however, that also didn't have the requisite six tablespoons left in the tin.

In deciding which of the two teas to use, I had to consider which one might be more forgiving with its steeping time. My recent experience at the tea liqueur tasting panel at the local distillery taught me that the steeping times are the key to translating teas into other formats. While I had high hopes for both the jasmine tea liqueur and the Earl Grey tea liqueur, both were disappointing. The jasmine tea liqueur tasted bitter, as if it had oversteeped. The Earl Grey liqueur, on the other hand, had such a mild bergamot flavor that it probably would have benefited from a longer steeping time to bring out stronger black tea and bergamot flavors.

Making the Green Apple Pectin

Before embarking on the Green Apple Pectin, I checked my personal copy of the book recipe for any secret notes that would help me be successful. Sure enough, there were two very important notes that weren't in the book recipe. Both had to do with how to make the required amount of liquid at certain points in the recipe. There were important because the pectin had to be concentrated enough to make the mixture gel.

Seven apples weighed three pounds three ounces, which was close enough to the required three pounds of apples. I quickly roughly chopped those into eighths and tossed them into my red Dansk pot with the requisite six cups of water. Peels, cores, seeds, stems and all! After Mass and lunch, I covered the pot, turned it up to high, and intended to walk away for 30 minutes. However, once that pot was underway, I assessed the bag of remaining apples. It looked like I could get another batch of green apple pectin made. So I counted another seven apples, which weighed three pounds exactly, quickly roughly chopped those, and added them to another eight quart stock pot with the requisite water. This left me with four apples - just enough to bring to work for lunch.

Shortly after I got the second pot underway, I gave the apples in the first pot a good stir. They fell apart into a beautiful apple mush. That meant it was time to dump the mess into a strainer so that the liquid could drain off. After about 25 minutes, I was still two cups of liquid short, so I added an extra cup of water to the mush and stirred well. After about 45 minutes, I was still one cup of liquid short, so I added another cup of water to the mush, stirred well, and left the house to run some errands. When I came back, it had drained enough to make almost six cups. So I poured half a cup into the second batch of green apple pectin, and proceeded to attempt to boil down my five and a half cups to only three cups.
During the 20 minutes that the first batch of green apple pectin was reducing, I cleaned out the fine mesh strainer and was about to pour the second batch of apple mush into it, when I had an idea. Since it had required an extra two cups of water to get the needed measurement from the first batch, maybe I should add that to the pot of apple mush before dumping it into the strainer? It was worth a shot! So I did and let that mush drain while I was fussing with the tea jelly.

Making the Tea Jelly

I thought a few hours of dealing with the green apple pectin might help me make a decision as to which of the two tea containers would make the best jelly. But when I revisited my two selections, I was still torn. So I did the logical thing: I made a cup of tea with the green tea that smelled like Christmas to see if it tasted as good as it smelled. It was so hot that I got no taste from it other than hot liquid. So I let it cool down while I went out to run some errands. The cooled tea did not taste like Christmas; it tasted like a strong green tea with a slightly bitter finish. That was something I could work with - especially if I took special care to monitor the steeping time.

The tea jelly recipe was very simple: brew the tea; mix it with green apple pectin, lemon juice, and white sugar; boil until the mixture reached 220F. And try to keep the kitchen clean while doing this! Of course, the minute that I turned my back on the pot, it boiled over. Its sugary syrup filled the super clean drip pan, which made for a very stinky kitchen when it started to caramelize and burn. I lowered the flame, which I knew would take longer to reach the target temperature, but at least it would prevent another boil over. At about 30 minutes into the process, the thermometer was stuck at 217F. It was supposed to be done by now!!! But I exercised some patience, walked away, and waited another five minutes to check the temperature again. It was only up to 218.5F. After a little more patience, the mixture hit its target. I pulled it off the heat and started the process for water process canning four-ounce jars.

The Bonus Round - Rose Jelly

Not surprisingly, one of my errands before I started the tea jelly was to my small local liquor store. I had met some of my girlfriends at a new bar downtown a few nights ago, and learned that it was Negroni Week. I really enjoy classic Negronis and creative riffs on the Classic Negroni, so I went back out last night to try another one or two of the variations that I hadn't tried previously. I started with their White Negroni - equal parts gin, bergamot amaro, dry French vermouth - and I never looked back! It was amazing. So I asked the super friendly bartender whether the bergamot amaro was something made in house. He informed me that it was a commercial product and pulled the pretty aquamarine bottle from the back bar to show me. Of course, my Sunday errand was to ask my small local liquor store to special order me a bottle so that I could enjoy it at home - and share it with my friends and family. But their special order desk is right behind their display of rose wines. (The computer I'm using doesn't have diacritical marks, so for avoidance of confusion, I'm talking about pink summer wines made from grapes rather than exotic wines made from flowers.) That gave me an idea: what if I followed the red wine jelly recipe but used a bottle of cheap rose instead? Naturally, there was the perfect bottle immediately in front of me: a generic French rose adulterated with blood orange juice. The price was right; I bought it and brought it home with me.

Once I got done with preparing the jars of tea jelly for water process canning, I turned back to the second batch of green apple pectin. It had been draining for close to an hour, so it was time to measure. Six cups. Rather than toss the additional half cup, I decided to let the juice reduce longer so that it would still hit the three cup target. Of course, 20 minutes later, the juice had reduced to three and a half cups. At that point, I dumped the bottle of rose into a separate pot and set a timer for 20 minutes to let the wine reduce to two cups. The pot of green apple pectin continued to bubble in hopes of it making its three cup target.

After the timer barked, I measured the reduced wine. Just under one and a half cups. Oh well! Rather than add water to make up the volume, I figured that the extra volume of green apple pectin would even it out. I poured the reduced wine into the pot with the green apple pectin, added the sugar and lemon juice, and let it go. Because of the difficulty I had with getting the tea jelly up to temperature, I figured I could walk away for another 20 minutes and still have to fuss with it later. I don't know why but, when I went back after fifteen minutes, the mixture was a perfect 220F. At that point, I turned off the heat and proceeded to fill the glass jars with jelly for water process canning.

The Verdict

After canning both the tea jelly and the rose jelly, there was a little sample that had jelled in the ladle. The tea jelly was really good; it tasted almost like a complex honey. Unfortunately the jelly itself was a bit cloudy - not the crystal clear that I would have gotten had I taken a shortcut with commercial pectin. The rose jelly was also very good; it tasted like pink sweetness. And the rose jelly was almost crystal clear, which made for some really pretty jars.

I would definitely try both recipes again, even though making the green apple pectin was a bit tedious. My canning book doesn't have instructions for substituting with commercial pectin, which I am sure would be a lot easier and efficient. But it may require much more sugar and more precise timing. So I think I'll just stick with the recipes as written.

Unfortunately, the tea jelly overflow into the drip pan made quite the mess. I used a different pot for the second batch of green apple pectin and rose jelly. That pot spread the gas flame out to where it actually caught the drippings on fire. Fortunately, I had been very careful with the placement of my kitchen towels and wooden spoons, so there was no collateral damage. But now the drip pan is a charred mess again! Shouldn't be anything that a good soak and scrub can't handle.