Canning Tomatoes Part 2

Wherein the real work happens.

Lesson 1: Do not start processing on the same day as picking. I could have gone home, taken a long shower and napped all afternoon, but instead I processed tomatoes for the next 6 hours. And then came back the next day for another 4.

Really the most tedious part of this whole adventure was peeling. Not Michael Landon, who would be happy as a clam eating all fruits and vegetables right of the vine with no processing or cooking whatsoever, was curious as to why we were removing the skins. They're too filmy and tough; once the tomatoes are cooked down they just kinda float around and refuse to breakdown.

The method we used for peeling was to scald the tomatoes. We washed them well, spread them out in a single layer and poured boiling water over them all. Just wait for it to get cool enough to handle, and they mostly slide right off. They seem to peel best when good and warm, not too cool.

Canning is, essentially, an effort in outwitting bacteria. The whole idea is to put the most sterile food possible into the most sterile jar possible and then sterilize it. Tomatoes are a prime canning candidate because of their high acid content - which is rather inhospitable to bacteria. It's very important to maintain sterility at every point in the process as much as possible. The kind of bugs that multiply in canned food are not always detectable to the eye or nose once you break that seal months later.

Now, my mother tells me I'm a paranoid person, but everything I've read about canning stresses sterility and following instructions and recipes exactly. We used the instructions in Joy of Cooking's 75th Anniversary Edition, which follow USDA guidelines. What follows is a narrative of my process - NOT precise instructions to be tried at home. You need Joy of Cooking anyway, put it on your Christmas list.

So we made sure all discolored bits and cores were removed from the tomatoes and tossed them in a pot to boil. I started out this adventure with my sights on canned tomato sauce with a great recipe; by the time we had started peeling, I settled for crushed tomatoes and compromised by adding a basil leaf. My grandmother commented that she used to cold pack tomatoes, but since they boiled while we were peeling more, the additional time/effort was minimal. Knowing she never killed anyone gave me extra reassurance that we were maintaining sufficient safety.

The jars, lids, and rings we washed with warm soapy water and then scalded with boiling. A jar filling funnel would have been very useful, but a ladle worked okay too. The jars get really hot with the boiling tomatoes poured in, so a pot holder is essential, preferably plastic to help with spills. We topped the jars with two tablespoons of bottled lemon juice (more acid; bottled is required over fresh squeezed, since the acidity in individual lemons is variable) and a basil leaf. Poked a clean, skinny spatula in to let out any air, left about a half inch of space at the top, topped them with a lid and screwed the ring on just until resistance was met - too tight and it's hard to get them off afterward.

While everything else was going, we set my giant canning pot to boil half full (an excellent hand-me-down). Setting the jars on the rack was a bit tricky; I had to pull it out and stack them dry to see how they fit first. There are handles that you could presumably use to lift the whole rack in and out, but I had visions of 7 jars of tomatoes crashing to the floor and crying a lot. We topped off the pot with more boiling water to cover the jars well, and set them to boil for 45 minutes.

After that the jars just had to come out promptly and set still for 12-24 hours. Moving the rack and/or pot around full is definitely a two-person job; that sucker is heavy. And now they're sitting on the floor in a corner in my kitchen, the coolest, darkest space I could find.

So, you'll remember we set out on this time consuming and work-intensive journey for two reasons: cost and taste. We used approximately 45 lbs of tomatoes, purchased at $0.50/lb, and yielded 13 quart jars of crushed tomatoes. This is $1.73/qt, or $1.51 for 28 fl oz (the size of most large cans at the supermarket). It's actually nearly impossible to compare what we made to something available at the supermarket. The organic tomatoes come from large scale industrial farms; the quality tomatoes with minimal additives come all the way from Italy; local just doesn't have the scale to make it to a store shelf. So it makes it easy that nothing - nothing - available at Safeway comes close to this price.

The true cost to me is higher. Gas brings it to $2.55/28fl oz. I wasted peppers and basil that I meant to can and freeze since I was so burnt out with the tomatoes. But even then it's only starting to come close to the Cento tomatoes I usually buy. You'd have to add in mine and my mother's hourly wage to make this whole endeavor more expensive than store bought. And while it was a lot of work and time, and my mom keeps saying she'll say no the next time I have a hairbrained idea like this, it was sure more fun than my 9 to 5.

As for taste: the fresh tomato season is still in full swing, so I haven't cracked open any of those jars yet. I took one taste during processing and was impressed. San Marzanos are supposed to be the world's best sauce tomatoes, according to chefs. Stay tuned for the verdict.