Wild Raspberry Jam

When I got back to the cabin from trimming one of the trails, I found a note on the table from Jerri that said simply, “11:20 Gone a-berrying.”

Whenever I see that expression I am reminded of Walden. Thoreau wrote in the chapter on “Visitors” that they included “Children come a-berrying.” And in the chapter on “Brute Neighbors” he described an incident when he was a-berrying: “Once, when berrying, I met with a cat with young kittens in the woods, quite wild, and they all, like their mother, had their backs up and were fiercely spitting at me.”

I am not as good a writer or philosopher as Thoreau, but I can top that story. Once when I was a-berrying I came face to face with a black bear who was picking from the same patch as I. He did not, however, spit at me but rather said “Oof” and ran away. At least he was not to be seen when I looked over my shoulder a few minutes later.

Determined that we would make at least one batch of wild raspberry jam this year, Jerri had begun her berrying scarcely two hours after we arrived at the cabin. The next day she persuaded me to help pick for the project, and now she was off again. We ended up with more than enough wild raspberries to make eleven jars of jam.

Wild raspberries are smaller than the tame varieties and do not grow in nice neat rows. The best raspberries at the cabin grow in tangles of dead branches and old tree trunks left by the logger who salvaged logs from the “big blowdown” of 2005. Balancing on piles of tree limbs while holding a plastic container half full of berries can be a nerve-wracking experience. Deer flies can make it even more exciting.

Perhaps the challenge of picking them makes the berries taste more flavorful, but whatever the reason, people tell us that our wild raspberry jam tastes a lot better than the stuff you can buy in the supermarket. For one thing we do not use any high fructose corn syrup or any other artificial ingredients. And for another, every berry is lovingly picked, washed and crushed by people who are going to enjoy some of that jam this winter–namely us.

You can buy some pretty good tasting raspberry jam in specialty stores, but nearly all of it is made with tame raspberries and still costs a fortune. You can make even better jam by spending a few hours enjoying the outdoors in a county or national forest while you harvest those beautiful delicate red berries and end up with jam that costs a lot less. That’s if you do not count your time, gas money, sugar and pectin. But it is more than worth it, and you too might meet a bear.

Making the jam is easy and foolproof if you follow the directions.

INGREDIENTS:

4 cups crushed raspberries
6 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 tsp. butter
1 pouch CERTO liquid pectin
paraffin

PROCEDURE:

First, wash and sterilize enough jelly jars to hold eight cups of jam. You can sterilize the washed jars by standing them upside down in a 9 x 13 inch cake pan on the the range. Pour about an inch of hot water into the pan, turn on the heat and bring the water to a boil. Boil for five minutes, then turn off the heat and leave the jars in the water while the jam is coming to a boil.

Put a slab of paraffin into a small sauce pan and set it aside.

Open the Certo pouch and stand it in a cup or glass where you can reach it easily when the time comes to add the pectin.

Be sure that all the berries have been picked over carefully and washed. Crush the raspberries with a potato masher and measure four cups of fruit into a three or four quart heavy saucepan or Dutch oven. Measure the sugar into a mixing bowl, then stir the sugar into the crushed berries. Add a half teaspoon of butter to reduce foaming. Turn the heat on low and stir occasionally. As liquid is released, raise the heat to medium high and stir frequently.

When the jam nears a boil, put the sauce pan with the paraffin on a burner under very low heat to begin melting. Be careful not to heat the paraffin more than just to melt it. Using canning tongs or a potholder, lift the jars from the pan of hot water and allow them to drain on a rack.

Keep stirring and bring the jam to a full rolling boil (a boil that keeps bubbling when you stir it). Stir in the pectin and return the jam to a full rolling boil. Boil for one minute, stirring constantly.

Remove the jam from the heat and skim off any foam. A gravy ladle works great for this. Stand the jars upright on waxed paper. Using a dipper and a funnel, fill the hot jars, leaving 1/3 to 1/2 inch head space. If necessary, use a piece of moistened paper towel to remove any dribbled jam from the inside of the tops of the jars.

Using a tablespoon, put a thin layer of melted paraffin on top of the jam in each jar and allow the jam to cool without moving it. You can use a toothpick to pop any bubbles that may form in the wax before it has begun to harden. After the jam is well cooled, add a second thin layer of paraffin. Pour any remaining paraffin into a small plastic container, cover and cool. You can pop it loose and use it for your next batch of jelly or jam.

Let the jam cool thoroughly for several hours. Then cover the tops of the jars with screw caps or plastic wrap tied in place.

NOTES: We use different plastic funnels for filling jars with jams or jellies. For jellies we use an ordinary plastic kitchen funnel with a stem about 1/3 inch inside diameter. For jams we use a funnel with the stem cut off the bottom of the mouth so that the opening is about 3/4 inch.

You can make good raspberry jam with tame raspberries too. A friend let me pick enough from his bushes to make two batches of jam last year. Because tame raspberries are sweeter than the wild ones, I added a tablespoon of lemon juice to each batch and the result was very tasty.

Jerri’s Cole Slaw

Blue Moon Road intersects U.S. 63 about two miles north of Cable, Wisconsin, and meanders past old farmsteads, some cottages and two small lakes before it rejoins the highway south of Drummond. My father told me that I had my first ride on Blue Moon Road when it was still a part of U.S. 63. Since I was only a week old, I don’t remember that trip home from the hospital in Ashland.

I do remember learning from Dad that before it was named U.S. 63, the highway was called WIS 24. It started in Hudson, Wisconsin, went through New Richmond to Turtle Lake and connected the villages and cities served by U.S. 63 today until ending at U.S. 2 near Ashland.

Though the Blue Moon Road is worth a drive at least a couple of times a year if you enjoy the northwoods and the opportunity to negotiate a narrow, hilly and curvy county road for a few miles, the reason my family drove it no longer exists. Only the name remains of the bar and restaurant that served the best fish fry I remember from my childhood.

All the locals knew of the Blue Moon, and resort owners directed their guests to the place as well, so it was packed on Friday nights in the summer. Packed is actually an understatement. I remember how my father would thread his way through the crowd in front of the door, hand a dollar to someone waiting to get in and ask him to order three Cokes and two beers. The money and order would be passed from person to person until it reached the bartender. In a few minutes the drinks and change would be passed out to us.

When Mom and Dad were at the door, they were ferrying orders and drinks for people behind us. I still remember being impressed by two things: orders got placed correctly despite the fact that they often went through three or four relays, and all the change came back with the order.

While we waited for a table, Mom and Dad visited with friends and we kids found others to play with. There was a small lake across the road that kept us occupied. I do not remember ever falling in, but I may be repressing a bad experience. Ordinarily, my family waited until I fell into any nearby body of water so they could relax while I dried out.

Dozens of bars and restaurants served a Friday Fish Fry, but the Blue Moon’s was exceptional. It was worth waiting for. The walleye was perfectly done, the French fries were crisp and the cole slaw was as good as Mom’s.

Maybe not quite as good as Jerri’s, however, but I loved it then just as I love her cole slaw today. Last Sunday we had cole slaw to go with some bass caught by Jerri but cleaned by yours truly. If I do say so myself, the fillets were perfectly fried and with Jerri’s guidance, I also made the slaw. She cooked some wonderful hush puppies, which I am going to try one of these days.

The meal tasted so good that it reminded me of the Blue Moon. Here is how to make Jerri’s Cole Slaw.

INGREDIENTS:

4 cups green cabbage
1/4 to 1/3 cup white or yellow onion
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. sugar
1/4 cup mayonnaise or whipped salad dressing
1/4 cup sour cream
2 tsp. cider vinegar
1/4 cup grated carrot (optional)

PROCEDURE:

Wash and remove any damaged or tough outer leaves on the head of cabbage. Using a sharp knife, cut a medium head (about seven or eight inches in diameter) into quarters, remove the core and slice one quarter very thinly. Then cut the slices into pieces that are no more than a half inch long. Do the same with another quarter until you have four cups of finely chopped cabbage. Clean and chop the onion to a quarter inch dice. Mix the cabbage and onion together in a large bowl. Clean and grate the carrot and stir it in if you wish to include it.

Make the dressing in a small bowl by stirring together the mayonnaise or salad dressing with the sour cream, salt, sugar and vinegar. Pour the dressing into the large bowl and stir to coat the cabbage and onion. If the slaw looks too dry, add equal amounts of mayonnaise or salad dressing and sour cream and a dash of vinegar. Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

Chill for at least an hour before serving.

NOTES: Some people prefer a sweeter dressing than we do. Feel free to add a little more sugar once you have tasted the slaw, but follow the recipe to start with. Besides being wonderful with fish, cole slaw goes well with bratwurst, grilled chicken or barbecued ribs.