When this is over, there will be peaches
by Stacey Zembrzycki
March 31, 2020
In hindsight, my preparation for COVID-19 began in the basements of my youth, the cold, damp, musty, dimly-lit ones where my Grandma Alice and Baba Olga stored their preserves on shelves, their pickles in second fridges, and anything that could be frozen in their “deep freezes.” Both were working-class, their husbands employed by the International Nickel Company, and so having anything extra was a luxury, especially during the tough times that plagued my community in northern Ontario. Strikes, lay-offs, and recessions all took their toll, leading both of my grandmothers to be resourceful when it came to food.
As a kid, I didn’t see it that way. I loved what their basements offered me: good, wholesome, homemade food. Small-batch canning done during late summer days heated up their houses to an almost inhospitable temperature but meant that delicacies like Grandma’s peaches could be eaten well into the winter, or so that was the plan. They were sweet, comforting, and familiar, grounding my younger brother and me after long days at school. We ate Grandma’s peaches right out of the jar. They were nearly impossible to resist! In fact, my brother loved those damn peaches so much that he’d eat a whole jar at one sitting, drinking all of the sugar water in which they were preserved in the process, often before my Grandma realized what had happened. Her stock rarely lasted much past fall as a result. Those peaches were a special treat. Canned store-bought peaches were the norm for the rest of the year.
In the weeks before COVID-19, I made frequent trips down to my basement, the cold, damp, musty, dimly-lit lower level of my 135-year-old home in Montreal’s quickly gentrifying Pointe-Sainte-Charles neighbourhood, where I’d take an inventory of the preserves I had left on my shelves, the fresh produce I had in my second fridge, and the remaining meat, bread, and prepared meals in my deep freeze. I am grateful for my privilege and knew we’d be ok if I merely filled the holes I saw before me.
Since moving to Montreal and having access to Marché Jean-Talon, one of the best outdoor markets in the world, my husband and I have spent every fall for the last ten years buying late summer produce in bulk and canning it. We process hundreds of pounds of tomatoes into sauce and salsa, in addition to making zucchini relish, pickles, jams, and of course peaches. Every year I swear I won’t can peaches because of the labour involved: skinning the peaches takes time and patience leaving every single surface sticky for weeks. But every year I make them nevertheless, usually running out to several places to find the last shipments of Ontario peaches that make their way into Quebec.
And, this year in particular, I’m glad I made the effort. Popping open a jar takes me back to my grandma’s kitchen table, to those humid, late summer days when all that seemed to matter was getting my share of peaches before my brother ate them all. Our stash of peaches is running low now. My three-year-old daughter Liliya loves them more than my brother it seems. Tempting her with this dessert is often the only way we can get her to finish her meals these days. I can see Grandma leaning in, with a glimmer in her eye, to enjoy the sheer delight on Liliya’s face as she scrapes the bowl clean.
When this virus finally dies out and we emerge from our homes, our communities will look very different. There will be seemingly insurmountable losses for all of us to deal with. While we will not be able to go back to how things were before, rest assured that when this is over, there will be peaches. And while there’s nothing like the taste of a ripe, fresh peach, few things beat those that are canned and waiting for us in the long winter and early spring days we all dread but must endure. Until then though the store-bought canned ones will have to do.
Recipe for Canned Peaches, Medium Syrup
Adapted from Bernardin Guide to Home Preserving
Buy peaches, free-stone if possible, and let them ripen on the counter for a couple days.
When ripe, fill one side of the sink (closest to your stove) with water to soak and wash the peaches. Set aside once they are clean and refill the sink with cold water. This will serve as a water bath in a few minutes.
Wash jars (500 ml or 1L) in the other side of the sink and put them in the oven on the lowest heat setting. They should be hot to touch.
Prepare a water bath, filling a large canning pot with water. Bring to a simmer and keep hot.
Fill another pot with water and boil. Once boiling, turn down the heat and drop small batches of peaches in water for 30-45 seconds to blanch them. Remove each batch, placing them in the cold water bath in the sink.
Peach skins should be easy to peel now. Skin peaches and set aside. Once complete, cut peaches into chunks/slices.
On the stove, prepare medium syrup. Bring to a light boil to ensure that all the sugar has dissolved.
3 ¼ cups sugar
5 cups water
Yields 7 cups
Always make extra syrup so as to avoid having to make more in the middle of the process.
Take some water out of the large pot with boiling water and pour into a bowl. Place washed lids in a bowl with the hot water.
Carefully remove jars from the oven, a couple at a time, and fill ¾ of each jar with the cut peaches. Using a funnel, pour syrup into the jars, leaving half an inch of space at the top.
Wipe rim of each jar with a clean paper towel. Place lids, from hot water, on jars, screw down the lid, and place the jars in boiling water. Process for 20 minutes. Remove and listen to the sweet popping sound of the jars sealing. Store for winter months or enjoy immediately!