It saddens me to think that there are lots of people in this world that have never tasted homemade jam. I myself only recently discovered the delights of canning and preserving and I can't believe I didn't sooner.
You know that mediocre, tooth-achingly sugary, fruit-like substance labeled "jam" on grocery store shelves? It doesn't even deserve to share the same name as the goodness you make in your own kitchen. It's akin to the difference between a dollar store pashmina and an Hermรจs scarf. Or Mavis Staples' transcendent "I'll Take You There" and muzak. Mercy.
I took a jam-making class a while back and when I tasted that first spoonful of plum preserves, I gasped. Seriously. I was instantly smitten.
So friends, please allow me to introduce you to the joys of real jam. I have a feeling you will love this recipe. It serves up the essence of apricot, bursting with summer sweetness, dressed up ever-so-slightly with lemon and vanilla. Perfect for spooning over cream tea scones, crisp toast or pancakes.
Apricot jam
Inspired by Vintage Mixture
Yields 1 and 1/2 small jars worth
1 and 1/2 pounds apricots
1 and 1/8 cups sugar
1 and 1/2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 vanilla pod
1. Pit the apricots and cut into small chunks, leaving skins on.
2. Place in a large saucepan and add sugar. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring frequently. Spoon off the foam as it rises (save to drizzle over yogurt the next day). Continue cooking until the jam reduces.
3. Use the spoon test to see when jam is done.
4. When it's done, add the vanilla seeds. Turn off heat and let it cook for a few more minutes. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice.
5. Ladle jam into sterilized jars. I'll confess that I'm still a little intimidated by the canning process, so instead I make small batches, refrigerate them, and eat immediately. I think this jam should keep up to a week in the fridge, but my guess is that it won't last that long. Mine certainly didn't.
NOTE: If you are looking for a way to use the remaining half of the vanilla bean, a half batch of this gorgeous rice pudding recipe will do the trick. You also can rinse the pods after use and make vanilla sugar with them.
I often change the names of recipes that I find, because I don't feel that the wording quite captures the essence of the dish. But how could you even think about changing a recipe's name when it includes "ridiculously simple" in it? After all, the only thing that I love more than cooking is cooking something that manages to be both delicious and ridiculously simple at the same time. And this banana bread pulls off both quite nicely.
This is my mother's recipe. (Which originates, I think, from Susan Mendelson's Mama Never Cooked Like This. Which is kind of hilarious, if you think about it, because my mama did actually cook like that.) Anyway, when I pop this in the oven, my kitchen smells all homey and childhood memories of warm loafs and lots of butter come wafting back to me. My Mum can def whip up a mean banana bread.
The beauty of this recipe lies in its moistness, and – no surprises here – its utter simplicity. When you notice two bruised-looking bananas hanging out in your fruit bowl looking all forlorn and forgotten, chances are very good that you will have what you need in your cupboard for a little on-the-spot baking action. Plus, it takes less than 10 minutes to get in the oven. I know, because I just timed it.
Ridiculously Simple Banana Bread
1 1/4 cups of flour
1 teaspoon of baking soda
2 ripe bananas, mashed
1/2 cup of vegetable oil
1 cup of brown sugar
2 eggs
1. Sift together flour and baking soda.
2. Mix together bananas, oil, sugar and eggs.
3. Stir the wet into the dry, until well combined. If you like nuts, you can add 1/4 cup of chopped walnuts. Ditto chocolate chips. (I hear that diced crystalized ginger and chocolate is a killer combo.)
4. Pour into a greased loaf pan and bake at 350F for about 1 hour. Watch the loaf after 50 minutes – if it begins to get too dark, test with a toothpick. When toothpick comes out clean, you are ready to take out.
5. Cool for 10 minutes before cutting.
I often freeze this in pieces in saran wrap that can be defrosted and taken to work to be enjoyed with a morning coffee. Infinitely more yummy – and more healthy, and cheaper – than those awful cardboard-tasting baked goods that haunt coffee shops everywhere. This also makes a great gift when you are invited to someone's house for dinner, or if you feel like surprising a friend when you turn up for tea.
Seriously, 10 minutes is all it takes. You'll never shell out good money for horribly dry packaged banana bread again. Promise.
