What’s in a Jar.

Each jar has a story you know. The story goes beyond what kind of preserve is tucked inside or the date marked hastily across the lid. When jars are pulled off of pantry shelves in the depths of winter they tell us this tale – they share with us again the wisdom of the memories they contain.

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The story starts with the earth. Today’s tomatoes carry the weight of the Saanich Peninsula, the memory of greenhouse temperatures, and the dirt of SunWing farms on their skin. They hold the moment of a sticky Saturday afternoon of driving along Oldfield Road to collect the cardboard box filled with ripeness.

When it’s time to make soup from these jars of gems they will be filled with echoes of conversation thrown back and forth between Kamille and I as we blanch and skin tomatoes. The doors will stand wide open as they do at my house all summer long, trying desperately to catch a breeze. If you listen carefully you’ll even hear the rattle of dice as Kamille and I play Yahtzee over coffee (here this time but farther back are memories of Greek sun streaming onto white linen tables.)

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It’s these stories really, that bring the magic to canning. It’s these stories that bring me back time and time again to the sound of lids sealing with a satisfactory pop and the heat of constantly boiling water. It’s these stories too, that make me want to share my jars with you all in my life. So come on over, there’s lots of canning still to be done – we can sit and pack our own stories into jars along with the relish, chutney or jam.

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