Seriously, I really did make jelly. I don’t even know how to make wine, but maybe the next time I get together with my Italian classmates we’ll have a lesson on how to make wine instead of pasta. But in the meantime, move over “Pioneer Woman”, because here’s a step-by-step guide on how the “Free-Range Woman” (that’s me) made her mighty fine grape jelly!
Over the Labor Day weekend, my grandson, Greyson, and I harvested these beautiful Concord grapes. A big cold front with snow and below freezing temperatures was coming in on the Tuesday after, so we had to get crackin’, and boy howdy, did we have an abundant harvest!
Pulling grapes off the vine made me think back to when I was a youngster visiting my grandparents in their country home deep in the South during the summer. My grandmother, Miss Anna Dee, would hand me a big pan and say in her genteel, southern drawl, “Honey Chile, if you’ll go over yonder past the creek and pick me a mess of black berries, I’ll make us a mighty fine cobbler for dinner.”
She didn’t have to ask me twice. I was off faster than a duck on a June bug racing across the pasture to the woods in the back, and within minutes I was pulling those berries off the vines. I loved picking black berries. Probably because I ate as many as I put in the pan, and nothing was better than sweet juicy black berries that were warmed by the Texas sun. When I’d bring back her pan, overflowing with berries, she’d laugh and tell me I picked enough for cobblers all week. Exactly! Because the next best thing to fresh berries off the vine was Miss Anna Dee’s berry cobblers.
Greyson wasn’t exactly overjoyed about picking grapes, so in my best imitation of a southern drawl I said, “Honey chile, if you’ll take this pan and help me pick a mess of those grapes over yonder, I’ll make us up some mighty fine grape jelly.”
He just shook his head, rolled his eyes and grabbed the pan. Let me tell you that ol’ June bug would have had plenty of time to saunter off out of sight as slow as that duck was going. Someday my grandkids will appreciate my humor.
We picked four of these pans full of grapes, and then I started the process of making jelly. What was I thinking?! Making grape jelly is hard work!
First, you have to de-stem the grapes. I learned from my first batch that wearing gloves is a good idea because otherwise you end up with purple fingers for about a month.
Then you have to smash down all the grapes and boil the heck out of them.
While the grapes are boiling you can make up a batch of San Quentin Chili like I did. I got the recipe from French Chef Jacques Pepin who now lives in Connecticut. He was good friends with Julia Child and James Beard and he does videos of his favorite recipes. He really did get this recipe from the cook at the San Quentin prison and it’s yummy! Message me if you want the recipe.
After a while, the grapes look like this and you set the pan to the side and let it cool down.
The next step is to crush the grapes through a sieve.
After you finish running the grapes through the sieve, you have juice.
At this point comes the big decision, wine or jelly? Wink, wink.
Well, it’s jelly for me and this is when you add the sugar and Sure-Jell. After everything is boiled and dissolved, voila! You have grape jelly ready to pour into jars. After you put the lids on, you boil the jars again because that’s what the instructions say to do, and then let them cool down to room temperature. Hopefully, after all that, you have some mighty fine jelly.
I call my jelly “Carolyn’s Colorado Concord Grape Jelly”. It’s all organic because nothing touches those grapes except the Colorado sun and rain. I’d offer to sell this jelly, but to be honest, after all the time it took to make, I’d have to charge an arm and a leg to recover my costs. Like $1052.36 a jar, and that doesn’t even include shipping. I’m not cheap.
But, if you’re interested, next year at this time you’re welcome to come visit. I’ll give you a pan, Honey Chile, and you can go over yonder to the grape vine with me, and we’ll pick a mess of grapes and make us up some mighty fine jelly.
After, we’ll sit down and have a bowl of San Quentin Chili with a nice glass of wine.
Carolyn Anderson Jones 