Shortly after I went to work for WIC I gave up jam and juice. I prided myself on it. “It’s wasted calories and sugar” I’d boast. “I only drink juice when I’m sick”. And yet on days I hated my job, I’d stop and buy a piece of cake for two and eat the whole thing by myself, on the couch and call it dinner. So in an attempt to reacquaint with food is magic I had a friend teach me to make jam. We cut up apples and blood oranges and Meyer lemons and then threw them in a pot with sugar to brew. We went for a walk, we caught up, we added some rosemary to the pot, we talked about how hard it is to get together and talk and catch up and that once upon a time women gathered to do just this. 5 hours later we boiled some glass jars, funneled the marmalade in and reboiled the jars to get them to seal. We tasted our creation and it was amazing. It tasted like Christmas and friendship and work. I think we often lose out when we forget the effort that goes into food.
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