A Deep-Dive On Making Jam
the hows, the whys, and the reason it isn't actually difficult
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Although summer is past with its glut of ripe fruit and tempting pyramids of golden, red, purple, and coral heaped on farmers’ market tables, the impulse to squirrel things away for winter persists. Apples are the only fruit now locally available, and I already miss my daily breakfast of cottage cheese and one fresh, perfectly ripe peach.
This summer I was a frequent midweek visitor to Cullipher Farm in Virginia Beach, chasing their perfect stone fruit and other less-commonly available produce, like figs. In August I happened upon some blue damson plums and brought them home to turn into jam. Finding myself a little short of fruit for the recipe (did I even follow a recipe?) I ended up chucking in a couple overripe peaches and several forgotten figs that had seen better days. Then, in a display of over-confidence, I scattered red pepper flakes, cane sugar, and a generous pour of angostura bitters. I’d purchased a bottle of bitters for an Ottolenghi carrot recipe and hadn’t used them again; it felt like time. In went the angostura, and the batch tasted perfect: sweet, complex, a little hot in the back of the throat from the pepper flakes and bitters. A quick gelling test on a frozen plate (more on this later) and I was satisfied that we had a perfectly good jam on our hands.
The best part about micro-batches of jam is that you can quickly whip them up, put them into small, clean jars, and stash them in the fridge for a few weeks, all without having to drag out any canning supplies. They’re not shelf-stable at this point but when hot jam is ladled into glass jars and the lids tightened well, they often temporarily seal themselves to the point that they’re half-way preserved if kept refrigerated, at least until you pop the seal and begin to use that jar. That weekend we drove up to Northern Virginia and I gave some of the “PPF” jam (plum-peach-fig) to my sister-in-law, leaving a few more jars in my fridge for later.
The jam, it seems, was a hit. In the time intervening I’ve received several sad, ominous texts as Abigail neared the bottom of her jar. A couple days ago she sent an “I’m still grieving” text when it was gone; she was still thinking about the jam. Abigail requested a newsletter deep-dive on making jam, hoping to assuage her sadness about missing the PPF fridge jam by making some of her own, or a new type entirely. (I haven’t told her that I still have a jar of jam in my fridge. The seal is un-popped. It awaits use in the near future on a crisp slab of buttered sourdough. I am a villain. It is a delight.)
At first I wasn’t sure if I ought to write a newsletter about jam-making: the season for fresh, local fruit is mostly past; I am not an expert; and anyway, I’m not particularly scientific in the way I go about jamming.
I’ve made jam according to recipes, I’ve made low-sugar jam (let me be harsh: most low-sugar jam is a travesty and nothing more than Jell-O). I’ve made jam according to the rules of my instinct; and of course I’ve made jam that is really a glorified thing-to-spoon-over-ice-cream. The latter is a category you’d do well not to snub. I’m not sure there’s anything quite as delicious as warm raspberry compote spooned over a scoop of vanilla.
However, the most mystifying thing about jam is how complicated we like to make it. I don’t know a single un-initiated home-cook who doesn’t tremble at the thought of being asked to make jam, who doesn’t flounder at the concept of pectin. And that’s a real shame because, as we are about to establish, making jam is something that is well within your power.
A note before we dig in: there are a lot of professional sources on the subject, whole books written about the finer points of making preserves. In demystifying the process I am not trying to say that there are not aspects of preserving that are not complicated, or that this newsletter is in any way a replacement for heading to your local library and checking out a book (say the no-frills 250 Home Preserving Favorites by Yvonne Tremblay) and taking a deep dive. What I am trying to achieve here is a familiarity with the language, concepts, and general process in the hopes of getting you to realize that jam is, at its heart, nothing more or less complex than fruit, sugar, and the invisible processes that transform them. So let’s go! Let’s break down some common types of preserves that you might be used to using as interchangeable terms but are actually distinct products:
Jelly - the most “refined” type of preserve, made by removing seeds, fruit pulp, and skins for the least texture. It’s usually made by simmering crushed fruit, straining it through a cheesecloth or sieve, adding sugar and pectin, and returning to the heat till the gelling stage.
Jam - my favorite! Jam is made of crushed or chopped fruit that is simmered with sugar till it loses its shape and becomes, well, jammy. According to this article from Food & Wine, jam legally has to contain 65% “soluble solids.” I love jam for how intact the fruit feels while still being lovely and spreadable and perfect for scones, toast, swirling with yogurt, etc.
Conserve - this one is a bit of a sleight-of-hand trick. The PPF jam I described making above is actually a conserve because it contains several kinds of fruit! True jam is made of only one type of fruit - when you combine two or more kinds of fruit in one go, you’ve made a conserve! I still call it jam, however, because nobody wants to have to ask follow-up questions if they’ve never heard of conserve, and the method is the same. I feel like walking around calling things “conserve” is just as pretentious as insisting that everyone call store-brand Ziplocs “plastic quart baggies.” Come on, give us a break. Nobody cares.
Compote - Compote is similar to jam (fruit, sugar, minimally processed) with the difference being that you don’t crush or chop the fruit. It’s left whole or in chunks and cooked down with sugar into syrupy sauce with gemstones of fruit suspended in it. Of course softer fruits break down somewhat, but the idea is for the fruit to be showcased in its least processed form. Pectin is never added to compote, as it is not supposed to be thick. This is my second favorite type and, as mentioned before, I love to spoon it over ice cream. Think a fruit crisp (minus the crisp) a la mode.
We could go into marmalades, chutneys, and pickled fruits but these are the categories I think you’ll find most helpful, and that I feel most adept at providing some clues about.
Breaking Down (the ingredients)
Fruit - this one is obvious. In the summertime, fruit is often knocking on your door, frankly begging you to use it before it passes into oblivion. If you have time to make jam, great. If you don’t have time, it’s okay. Just wash, clean, and chop that fruit, just chuck it in the freezer for later use in a smoothie, cobbler, pie, or crisp.
Frozen Fruit - My favorite little sneaky realization is that frozen fruit is actually a very viable option for any kitchen use that involves cooked fruit! Because farmers understand that the fruit will be immediately processed and frozen if grown for this purpose, they often leave it to ripen longer which means that arguably, the frozen fruit aisle is going to be some of the ripest fruit in the grocery store. This is certainly true in the winter months, and possibly just as true in the summer if you don’t have access to, or can’t afford, local fruit. Jam is the ideal use for frozen fruit, so if you have fruit left in your freezer from the summer bounty, or simply want to make a few jars of jam to brighten the bleak late-fall/mid-winter season, look no farther than the freezer section. You’re not doing something hideous by buying a couple bags of frozen strawberries. Cross my heart.
Sugar - Look, there are multiple ways to make low sugar jam but before you go off like a rocket to think about something as boring as calories, let’s ask a couple questions: are you planning to eat so much jam that making your preserves with cane sugar is going to harm you? I eat jam twice a week. Maybe. To me, the pure joy of a spoonful of summer-sweet fruit bursting over my tongue is worth making jam the way it is meant to be made. However, if you really have to avoid sugar, there are certain lower-sugar recipes made with pectin specifically designed to be used with less sugar and the addition of something like fruit juices. And yes, some people have had middling success with making jams with things like Splenda. I have to say though, you cannot get around the science behind the necessity of sugars (those occurring in the fruit, and added sugars) to the entire gelling process. Can’t be done. My advice? To the best of your ability, use cane sugar. Low-sugar jams are a little sad. This isn’t the time to cut corners.
Pectin - Oh, pectin. This is the one that still intimidates me when I stop to worry I don’t know what I’m doing, but in reality it’s actually pretty simple. Pectin is a starch that naturally occurs in some fruits like apples, oranges, and other citrus. If you’ll permit a cheesy statement, pectin is maybe the only context where you can effectively compare apples to oranges. Pectin is the factor that, when heated with sugar, allows the jam or jelly to gel. For use in the kitchen, pectin comes in powdered or liquid forms. These should be used according to package instructions and are not interchangeable in recipes. In preparations of fruits that are high in pectin, such as marmalade, there is no need to add additional pectin. Often you can also get away with avoiding the use of added pectin if you incorporate a bit of high-pectin fruit to a batch of jam made with low-pectin fruit, such as a blackberry jam (low-pectin) with the addition of apple (high pectin). Here’s a quick run-down of common fruits and their pectin content:
High pectin: apples, pears, crabapples, blackberries, citrus fruits, cranberries, currants, gooseberries, grapes, plums, quince
Medium-low pectin: apricots, blueberries, cherries, elderberries, peaches, pears, pineapple, raspberries, strawberries
After choosing your recipe, prepare your fruit and other ingredients according to the instructions and set them to simmer on the stove. This is really all that the bulk of jamming is: simmering the heck out of fruit and sugar. So this gets us to the final step!
How to tell if your jam is done:
There are multiple ways to test the doneness of a jam. Typically the recipe you’re following will have some context clues. You can test with a thermometer, but my favorite methods are these two:
First: I see if the liquid will coat the back of a spoon thickly enough to run a fingertip through it and leave a track. This is usually my test for things like custards, but I find that it is a good technique to find out when I should start doing the plate test for my jam. If it’s too thin, return to the burner and simmer for another few minutes till it’s thicker and more concentrated.
Second: When I begin the process of making jam, I stick a couple china saucers into the freezer to get good and cold. When the jam starts nearing the finish line, I drop a tiny spoonful on the chilled saucer and let it sit for a moment, then tip it to the side. If the surface wrinkles a bit, that is an indicator that your jam should set to a nice, spreadable consistency when cool!
If the jam is finished, now is the time to ladle it into sterile jars and tighten the lids! The hot jam often pulls a temporary seal into the lid and makes storing it in the fridge for at least a month a viable option! If you want to get a whole canning system (large pot, canning rack, etc.) you can, but for the process of practicing jam skills, I prefer small, manageable batches of “fridge jam” that you can spread around to your family and friends (no pun intended). Once you feel like you’ve mastered the art of jam-making, you can add in canning skills - they aren’t hard either but you’ll probably be less intimidated if you learn one thing at a time.
Last up! A recipe on which you may test your new-found prowess. I didn’t follow a recipe for the PPF jam, but I offer here another delicious alternative. This is made with pears, which are high in pectin and therefore don’t ask you to work with any unfamiliar ingredients. I hope that you will make it, enjoy it, spread it on toast or eat it with wedges of sharp cheese and a sense of superiority. And when those jars of spiced pear jam are empty, I hope you’ll wash and refill them quickly with a batch of another sort of jam. The combinations are endless, and the satisfaction is just as infinite.
Happy jamming, my friends! If you have any questions, please leave a comment and I’ll do my best to answer them thoroughly. Jam-making is a skill I believe anyone can acquire, and I can’t wait to hear the things that you make.
Spiced Vanilla Pear Jam
5 generous pounds of fresh pears
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon fresh nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 vanilla bean, halved lengthwise, insides scraped
4 cups unbleached, natural cane sugar (this gives the jam caramel notes and should not be replaced)
1. ) Place two saucers in the freezer. Peel pears and remove stems and seeds, then chop into small cubes.
2.) Toss pears with sugar, spices, and the insides of the vanilla bean, then add to a large, heavy bottomed saucepan. Add the vanilla pod as well - we will remove it at the end.
3.) Bring to a boil, and turn the heat to low. Simmer (stirring occasionally) for 60-90 minutes. You are really looking for the pears to break down and get saucy. They will retain somewhat of their shape, (not be a smooth puree) but should be looking soft and jammy.
4.) Do the “plate test.” If the jam looks relatively set and not runny, it should be finished! Remove the vanilla bean pod, then ladle the jam into clean jars and allow to cool to room temp before storing in the fridge.