This year I have been doing a lot of family tree research, trying to get a better picture of both the Hunewill side of my family as well as my mother's side, the Millers. In doing all this digging for information on my ancestors, I stumbled upon a letter written from my great grand aunt (Stan Hunewill Sr.'s sister, Millie) to a grocer in Gardnerville, Nevada. In it, she wonders if perhaps the grocer would be interested in carrying red currant berries grown and picked from the ranch. The reply was a bit curious and apologetic at the same time, saying that it might be possible, but we might not have the quantity that would be needed.
I spent a few seconds marveling at the letter, then moved on to the next, but as the day wore on, I kept thinking about our currant patch that sits just north of the office. As a child, I had picked the small crimson berries off the bush and eaten them right as they were ripe, savoring their irresistible combination of tart and sweet. They taste so much like summer in Bridgeport, of childhood, crisp mountain mornings, warm sunny days, rides in the meadows, dips in the creek, cattle grazing happily on green grass, and the thunder of horses hooves as they were turned out at the end of the day. I suppose when you're reading old letters or newspapers, it's hard to avoid a bit of nostalgia. I certainly couldn't.
I don't exactly know when the currant bushes were planted, but I know it must have been well before the 1920's. It's hard to grow things in Bridgeport since we have such an incredibly short growing season and the threat of snow and frost every month of the year, but the currants do quite well. I have heard stories about my great-great-great-grandmother, Esther, tending a garden and I can't imagine the amount of effort that would have taken, and though it was common then, it must have been extremely difficult due to the climate. My dad, Jeff, told me that the patch of currants used to be much bigger until a fire wiped about half of them out. They have survived brutal winters and droughts, mild winters and wet summers. They're tough.
The hearty and unassuming red currant bush. All the greenery is deceiving; there are HUNDREDS of bunches of berries waiting to be picked!
And so, in the spirit of my ancestors, I decided to use what we had to make something tasty...red currant jelly. I will admit it sounded much easier to do than it actually was--picking those little berries takes a lot of patience!
If you part the branches of the currant bushes...you find little jewel colored clusters of red currants. It's a treasure hunt on every bush!
You can imagine how many of these little bunches it takes to make a pound...or two pounds...but they sure are pretty!
They look like rubies-little round, perfect rubies.
At this point, you should all know that I have never made jelly before, nor had I ever had an interest in doing so! Luckily my mom used to do it all the time, so she agreed to lend a hand and her expertise.
Happily bubbling away, doin' some cool chemistry stuff. I was never good at chemistry so I can't tell you exactly what.
When the aroma of the heated berries started to fill the kitchen, I had a deja vu moment. I knew I'd smelled that wonderful smell before, and my mom said she used to make jelly all the time when my brother and I were small. It took me right back to when we used to move to Smith Valley in the Fall so my brother and I could attend school (we didn't go to school in Bridgeport for a number of reasons). It reminded me of the way a Fall day has that particular warmth that is not at all like summer, the way the nights are a little cooler week by week, and the way the trees start to turn warm colors and rustle a little more dryly in the breeze.
After straining the pieces of berry out, we added some sugar and water and boiled it again before we added the pectin which allows the jelly to set and not become syrupy. Apparently you're supposed to let the boiled berry liquid drain through a jelly bag overnight so that you get a clear jelly. I was far too impatient for that, and besides, who CARES if your jelly is a little cloudy?! It still tastes the same!
Into the hot water bath they go! They say a watched pot never boils, and let me tell you, it's true. I was so eager to try the jelly I could hardly stand it!
And there is the finished product! Ruby-red currant jelly! Grown, picked, and jellied at the ranch. And it tastes sooooooooooo good!
After the red currant jelly making, my mom and I decided to make some different kinds: wild rose hip jelly, red currant jam, strawberry rhubarb jam, and later in the Fall, Elderberry jelly.
So I picked more currants. And I picked rose hips. And I cut stalks of ranch-grown rhubarb. We had raspberries on hand but not strawberries, so we substituted raspberries for the strawberries. What an amazingly delicious substitution! My dad hasn't let his jar of the raspberry rhubarb jam out of his sight!
Some freshly picked currants for jam and some rhubarb in the background...mmmmmmmmmm!
Red currant jam in the making. I wish "smell-o-vision" was a real thing!
Raspberry rhubarb jam in the making. This stuff is incredible, if I do say so myself!
These are all the rose hips I picked, simmering down to get soft so they can be mashed and strained. It took a lot of effort to get two 8 oz jars, so we'll see if it happens again! We ended up with syrup instead of jelly because I was impatient. But the syrup is fantastic on vanilla ice cream, so it was no big deal.
The finished products! From L to R: Currant jelly, raspberry rhubarb jam, red currant plum syrup, rose hip syrup, and in the back, red currant jam.
Well, that was our canning project for the summer...we have about 11 or 12 more pounds of currants to make jelly...those currant bushes sure were productive this year! All in all I'd say it was a success for my first time canning anything. I have a lot more appreciation for the amount of work it takes to get your own food and thoroughly enjoyed it.
That's all for now...or until I can get more pictures off my phone to edit and put in a blog.
Until next time, dream of green meadows, fat cattle, shiny horses, and blue skies!
