We’ve read the glut of preservation blog posts about all the wonderful things an enterprising individual can put up to share with family and friends. And yes, I’m pretty much on the sharing bandwagon. I love the pleasure my food gifts bring to others, and knowing that it’s a continuing pleasure — that they open that jar of jam many mornings and feel the endorphin rush of deliciousness more than once — is honestly one of the greatest joys in my life.
But blah blah blah, summer of love is over, ya hippie. This post is about the food I make that I DON’T share, the stuff that’s too good for others…or maybe too good for everyone except the one friend whom I deem might be able to sufficiently appreciate it. This is the selfish, food-hoarding side of the preservation movement, and I embrace that, too.
And it has a name in my house: brandied apricots.
These slightly tart, tangy, sugar and booze saturated little pillows of fiberous goo make even plain goat milk yogurt taste good. On crepes, with similarly brandied cherries, they are divine. When I eat them during the day, I feel naughty, as if I just slammed down a Manhattan in my kitchen at noon. Just now, I was eating them, plotting to drive to eastern Washington as soon as the apricots hit the market, buying up a huge box and stuffing them in jars. More jars! More for me! Brandied apricots! All! Winter! Long!
I also, for the record, feel this way about my loganberry jam, my green tomato pickles, and my dill pickles. So don’t even ask.
What do you make for yourself and hoard?