Drama in the canning community? This sounds serious. Especially now that it’s coming home to roost.
Or is that roast?
Yes, now that Hubby has enthusiastically taken up canning, there’s trouble brewing in Kensho paradise.
It’s not only that he dominates our small kitchen for hours on end, heats up the house with his fancy pressure canner, or is filling every conceivable space with his jars. It’s not even that’s he’s far better at it than I ever was.
No, I’m generous that way, perfectly willing to share in the glory.
I am, however, growing weary of his methodology. His modern, high-tech, USDA, strictly by the book, precision style is beginning to conflict with my laissez-faire, look how the old timers did it, just wing it attitude.
I suggested we try the ‘Open Kettle Method’, which for the record is taken directly from my 1933 Kerr Home Canning Guide.
He quips, “No way, it’s not approved.”
And I’ve just learned we’re not alone in this clash. There’s some fiery online debate—wouldn’t you know it—as in politics, so in the kitchen.
They call themselves the ‘Rebel Canners’ and that’s got me quite intrigued. Those rascals are daring to question The Official Science! They must all have a death wish. Clearly they have they never heard of botulism.
It was no sooner than Hubby and I had a tiff over water bath timing that a YouTube video hit the top of my feeds.
How did they know?
A rebel canner, in the flesh.
She doesn’t look nearly as crazy as I thought she would. She brings up the Amish, who never pressure can.
Never! Not even for meat.
It’s positively scandalous.
Hubby tries to block out the insanity coming from the speakers. I tell him I want to try it. Meat, my dear, imagine, meat water bath canned!
Let’s go for it!
He looks at me with the same look as when I try a new foraged mushroom without proper identification. And I know just what that look means.
I can repeat the sentence for him, I’ve heard it so often.
“You go ahead, sweetie, someone has to live to tell the story.”