Pepper Relish

 Canning is a back-to-simpler-times activity which I really enjoy. I have to make sure I have time and space for it, but I truly enjoy it when I have a block of time to devote to it. I recommend it for anyone seeking to appreciate the basic gifts we have in this life, like food that nourishes our bodies and sustains us and the loved ones whom we feed. Fair warning, canning always takes twice as long as you think it will, so plan plenty of time.

The simple act of washing, peeling, cutting veggies is meditative in itself. The joyful burst of the vegetable colors is happiness itself. When I gathered the peppers for this canning adventure, the recipe recommended half green, half red bell peppers. I could not find enough red peppers, so had to settle for a yellow and an orange thrown into the mix. It still looks red/green enough in the jars to make a pretty little present at Christmas time! I also added onions to the mix. I had all the diced veggies in separate bowls at one point, and it just looked like an artist's palette ready to paint!

Supper ran a little late the day I made this recipe. Delays: had to run to the local hardware store and get a "jar grabber" tool, since I had lost the one I used to have years ago.  A family member from Vermont did a drive-by to drop off some family photos, and I visited with him in the driveway. Oh, and I can't be trusted with a knife. I cut myself in the midst of dicing veggies and had to bandage it. Life happens!

The recipe calls for liquid fruit pectin, and I guess I've always used powdered. I'm not sure it sets up as well as powdered. But the jars are sitting pretty, and we look forward to enjoying the relish and giving some jars as gifts. And, as I think I mentioned in another canning post, that satisfying "ping" as the lid of the jar seals after the water bath is a beautiful sound. It's as if the jar itself is saying, "I'm ready to bring the freshness of summer produce to your table this winter!"

I would be remiss if I did not mention that the story behind this recipe is powerful. The woman submitting the recipe speaks of her great-grandmother Etta Mae Nelson Libby, who was a rural letter carrier 1903-1907. Turn of the century letter carriers no doubt had challenges, getting the mail to its destination. She had to give up that career when she married, since married women were expected to be in the home. She left five notebooks of recipes to be handed down in the family. Thank you, Etta Mae!