Plum Jam

Occasionally I like to do something daring. Occasionally I like to venture into the unknown, risking life and limb for the sake of something yummy. And I've done just that. I have risked my life or, at the very least, my sanity.

I made plum jam.

Yes, I know, that may not sound very daring and life threatening, but have you ever stood there, gazing at boiling hot plums as they slowly melt down to jam, and wanting to just reach right in there with your bare hand and salvage just one piece so you can experience the awesomeness of handpicked plums all over again?

See. Danger. But it was worth it and I'd do it again, because even scalding hot those plums tasted of a little bit of heaven.

I almost regret not eating the lot now, but when you're given 1kg of the juiciest handpicked plums in the world it's almost a little depressing to wake up and still see the pile of them sitting there, slowly getting less fresh with each day that passes. I had to do something.

When life gives you lemons, make lemon meringue pie, and when life gives you plums... make plum jam (or scoff the lot, it's really up to you. Either way fills your stomach with rainbows and happiness)


Plum Jam.

Adapted from allrecipes.co.uk and cottagesmallholder.com

(Apparantly this is also yummy if you make it with Damsons. Someone give that a go for me, yeah?)

-100ml water
-900g plums
-900g jam/preserving sugar (this already has the pectin added in)

Wash and dry plums.

Cut plums in half and remove the stones then place in a preserving pan, or large heavy bottomed saucepan, along with the water.

Bring the plums to the boil. As soon as they start boiling, reduce the heat and simmer gently until the plums are soft.

Return to the boil, and add sugar whilst continuously stirring until the sugar has dissolved.

Boil rapidly for around 5-10 minutes, stirring often.

Test for setting by dripping a bit of the jam onto a cooled plate (I whack a plate in the fridge or freezer for a bit), leaving it for a few moments, then pushing it with your finger. If it crinkles: it’s set. If it doesn’t, continue to boil and test for set again after a minute or two.

Take the jam off of the heat, and skim off any foam, then transfer to sterilised jars*.

Leave to cool at room temperature.

(*To sterilise jars, wash in hot soapy water and dry with a clean tea towel. Boil then lids to sterilise those. Put the jars into the oven on a baking trayand heat them before pouring in the jam.)

And now, for a toast, to some utterly gorgeous and mouthwatering plum jam.

Oh, how I love bad jokes.

And So It Begins...

We have a little joke in my family that when my parents pop their clogs my inheritance will consist of cook books, some farm animal ornaments and kitchen utensils.

the utensils

Y'know what? I'm completely cool with that. I'm ecstatic with that, actually.

The book I'm currently searching through is the most prize out of all my inheritance. It's a year older than I am and the pages are either falling out or stuck together with bits of cake batter and icing. I have, quite literally, grown up with this book. How many people can say that about a recipe book?

But even though I am armed with my favourite of all cook books, I'm still unable to find a recipe that I feel like making within the next few days.

I could make some yummy teacakes, or maybe a treacle tart?

Those fishcakes I've been meaning to cook up for a while now?

How about good ol' jam tarts made with homemade jam?

Oh, I don't know! I want to eat all of those things. Especially the fishcakes. Maybe I should make those and put that Thai Sauce recipe I found the other day to good use too?

Ah! This bloody cook book opened up a whole range of different foods to me, that a year ago I didn't even like, and now I'm stuck having to choose which ones I want to eat the most.

Cook book... you know I love you but sometimes, just sometimes, you really do make life a whole lot more difficult.

the cook book