Make the Bread, Buy the Butter - Jennifer Reese [105]
“Thanks!” he replied.
Yet he didn’t seem as delighted as he’d been when I gave him the boxed set of Sopranos DVDs. When I looked in his refrigerator months later I saw the chutney where I had left it, untouched.
Don’t kid yourself. If you ever want to be invited to another dinner party, you really need to bring a bottle of wine.
Make it or buy it? Neither
SWEET-HOT PICKLE RELISH
This is adapted from The Book of New New England Cookery by Judith and Evan Jones. It’s sweet and hot and adds zest to every hot dog.
Make it or buy it? Make it.
Hassle: I don’t love “finely” chopping anything, but this a relatively simple canning project with a big payoff.
Cost comparison: It costs a dollar a cup to make this relish. Vlasic: $2.40 per cup.
4 cups finely chopped pickling cucumbers, 8 to 10
2 cups finely chopped onion, about 2 large onions
2 cups finely chopped red bell pepper, about 2 large peppers
¼ cup kosher salt
2 cups cider vinegar
3½ cups sugar
1 tablespoon celery seeds
1 tablespoon mustard seeds
¾ teaspoon cayenne pepper
1. Mix the cucumbers, onion, and bell pepper with the salt in a large bowl and add enough cold water to cover. Let rest, covered, overnight at room temperature.
2. In the morning, drain the vegetables.
3. In a large pot, bring the vinegar, sugar, celery seeds, mustard seeds, and cayenne to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Add the vegetables and simmer for 10 minutes.
4. Pack immediately into sterilized canning jars, place the lids on the jars, loosely screw on the rings, and boil for 10 minutes in a boiling water bath. Remove from the water to a clean dish towel and wait for the pop of the lids sealing. Store sealed jars in the cupboard. Refrigerate after opening.
Makes 4 pints
BANANA KETCHUP
Until the mid-twentieth century, ketchup was any smooth semisolid condiment, concocted from ingredients ranging from green walnuts to oysters, mushrooms, and cranberries. But most of us will never know what green walnut ketchup tastes like because there is really only one kind of ketchup in the world today: tomato.
Just about every preserving manual and chef’s cookbook touts a recipe for a wondrous tomato ketchup that will supposedly ruin you for Heinz forever. I’ve made the ketchup from The River Cottage Cookbook and Cindy Pawlcyn’s Mustards Grill Napa Valley Cookbook, and while they were estimable dipping sauces, they were not ketchup. Heinz is ketchup and if you miss by an inch you miss by a mile. Buy the ketchup.
Tomato ketchup, that is. The banana ketchup from Helen Witty’s Fancy Pantry misses by a mile and therein lies its charm. It’s not trying to be anything but its own spicy, fruity, homely brown self. This freckled condiment improves pork or chicken sandwiches, and, of course, a burger.
1 cup golden raisins
¾ cup chopped onions, from one medium onion
4 garlic cloves, peeled
One 6-ounce can tomato paste
2⅔ cups cider vinegar
3 pounds overripe bananas
1 cup dark brown sugar, packed
1 tablespoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
1½ teaspoons cayenne pepper
½ cup light corn syrup
4 teaspoons ground allspice
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
1½ teaspoons freshly