This is my very own special recipe. If you want to make fabulously failed cherry jam like I did, you must follow these steps exactly.
Ingredients
1 cherry tree
1 gruff Kiwi bloke
2 lesbian farmers
Ingredients (continued)
1 bird net from a local vineyard
2 kg cherries
2 kg sugar
1 cup lemon juice
1 cup red wine
3 tablespoons vanilla essence
3 tablespoons pure maple syrup
Instructions
- Plant a cherry tree. If you’re lucky you’ll get someone to do this step for you about 5 to 10 years before you start cooking. These things take time.
- Spend at least 2 years being baffled by the fact that the cherries on your tree vanish as soon as they start turning red. Scratch your head in confusion.
- Listen when the gruff Kiwi bloke who is your rural neighbor says, “You’re feeding the birds. Everyone knows you have to net a cherry tree.”
- Make a resolution that, next year, you will net the cherry tree.
- Thank that same rural neighbor when he says, “I have some old bird netting from one of the local vineyards. I’ve got heaps. I’ll give you some.” Realize that gruffness and kindness are not mutually exclusive qualities.
- Watch with pleasure as your neighbor cuts you a length of netting with an old pair of rusty sheep sheers. Thank him again.
- When spring comes, and while the cherries are still green, get out your net. Because your cherry tree has grown tall, also get a ladder and an old broom, or something with a long handle.
- Struggle to get the net up over the top of the tree by yourself, holding it up with the broom. Struggle some more. Become frustrated and finally fail.
- Realize that nobody in the history of humankind has ever made cherry jam alone.
- Ask the two lesbian farmers who lease your paddocks to help you net your cherry tree. If you don’t have any lesbian farmers on hand, ask somebody else.
- Together, get the net up over your cherry tree. Thank your kind helpers several times. When they tell you it’s smart to net the tree, shrug and say, “Everyone knows you have to net a cherry tree.”
- Tie off even the smallest holes in your net with blue twine. Little birds are clever and hungry. Do not allow the tiny monsters a single opening, or you will have no jam.
- Wait.
- When the cherries on your tree are bright red, take off the net. Stand there for a moment and look at the tree. It is full of fruit and incredibly beautiful.
- Climb a ladder and pick your long-awaited cherries. Pop one in your mouth. Be amazed at the bright, sweet taste of a fresh country cherry that came from your very own tree. Eat some more.
- Give a bag of cherries to all three people who have helped you so far. Don’t be stingy. You’ve got heaps.
- Tumble the remaining cherries into your kitchen sink and turn on the tap. Watch them float. Rinse them. Hold them. Be amazed at the beauty in your hands.
- Remove the stems. Cut in half and remove the pits. Add lemon juice and put on a low heat, stirring until soft. Then add sugar, stirring, until it dissolves.
- Turn up to high heat and bring to a rolling boil.
- Get creative. Add maple syrup. Add vanilla. Throw in what’s left of that bottle of Martinborough pinot noir in the back of pantry.
- Cook until a little bit of jam placed on a frozen plate sets and turns gel-like. Be proud of yourself. You are fantastic. Wait. Check again. Are you certain that’s gel-like? Sure, what the heck.
- Ladle your hot jam into hot, sterilized jars. Seal and turn upside down for 2 minutes. Turn upright and set aside until cool.
- Check your jam jars the next morning. Cringe in horror when you realize that your jam has not set. See how terribly runny it is. Be very, very disappointed. You are a total jam failure.
- Wait several days, hoping for a jam-setting miracle. Check your jars compulsively. Watch the jam ooze around inside the jars like some sort of deep red, primordial slime. Rue the day your cherry tree was planted.
- Seriously consider throwing out the entire lot, jam jars and all.
- Then, out of curiosity, open a jar. Dip in a spoon and taste. Be absolutely astonished at how ridiculously good it is! Taste again. Savor the sweet summer cherries, which have become beautifully candied. Enjoy the quiet hints of red wine, maple syrup, and vanilla.
- Be proud. Be very proud. You have created something delicious, of your very own – even if it isn’t what you planned to make. Slap some hand-made labels onto the jars and call it “Candied cherry syrup”.
- When your city friends come out for dinner, serve your gourmet candied cherry syrup on top of delicious vanilla ice cream.
- Sit back and listen to the ‘ooos’ and ‘aaaahs’.
- Break into a deep and heartfelt smile.
Have you ever made something that failed fabulously, or required a community to make?
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‘Food’ category – Find stories about eating, harvesting, and growing your own food. Browse the ‘Food’ category.
I suspect the reason why your jam failed to become jam is that, in Step 12, you used BLUE twine. Your gruff farmer should perhaps have grunted that it’s essential to use the WHITE variety. Otherwise, well done!
Doh! Had I only known! There are so many things to consider when making jam.
Home made vanilla ice-cream?
Alas, no. You’re clearly trying to up my game! :-)
This happened to me! As you say great with icecream :)
We could start a Fabulously Failed Jam Cookbook.
Darn, I knew something was missing last night. Flour-less chocolate cake made by Roslyn, store-bought Kapati vanilla icecream (my feeble contribution), missing cherry syrup not drizzled over cake and ice cream. Next time perhaps…….
Had I known I would have brought some!
I was once almost finished with a delicious home made pot of split pea soup, i was only adding the final touch – a bit of salt – when the whole top of the jar of salt fell off and ruined the whole pot!
Noo! It’s not easy to save that. I once was making home made applesauce and threw a bunch of salt in instead of sugar. Ooops.
Oh Jared, that’s the cutest!
Thanks!
Compared with our efforts with growing (or should I say harvesting ripe) cherries in Martinborough you have been extraordinarily successful. We never beat the birds.
I’ll have to put out a notice next year when we’re netting our tree. Attention all Martinborough cherry tree owners: Must Net Now.
I came into an embarrassment of fresh meyer lemons two holiday seasons ago, and had an identical jam failure. My syrup sat unloved in the pantry for months because I could not bear to throw it away. Stubbornness paid off though– I learned a spoonful makes yogurt so delicious it’ll make you weep, and it’s an unforgettable waffle topping. I’ve been trying to make “marmalade syrup” ever since, and am always a little disappointed when it ends up as jam…
Sounds fantastic, and I sympathize completely. Most people don’t know how terribly hard it is to make failed jam.
I have done pretty much the same thing–minus the lesbian farmers, but with the added pleasure of doing it on one of Chicago’s muggiest hottest summer days. I ended up calling my failed jam “cherry syrup” and managed to sell my four or five jars of it at a block sale. Damned if the next year someone didn’t come back and ask if I had more of that great cherry syrup.
I love failed jam stories! That’s a great one.
I know this recipe well. I am still at step 1 though! Looking forward to being able to try full recipe soon.
When you get to step 10, let me know if you need any lesbian farmers.
I did the Cherry syrup a couple of years myself. Then my son wanted a tree house and my husband said he had to cut the branches out of the telephone wires first. He cut all the leaf bearing branches off the tree. (That kind of defeated the idea of a tree house.) The next year the tree made an attempt to live but it couldn’t put out enough leaves to support the roots. It was a huge old tree. Now it supports a trumpet vine and feeds hummingbirds.
It’s good that even in death your huge old tree has a purpose!
Why so stingy with the wine? Schnapps can help a failed recipe too… and oh so many flavors to choose from!
Is the schnapps intended to help cheer up the gruff farmer or the lesbian neighbor? I think schnapps works well for both but haven’t been in New Zealand long enough to know for sure.
Did you see New York Times Sunday paper July 29? Arts & Leisure section big picture and lead story on James Cameron purchase of 2500 acre property near you. The byline is “Martinbotough, New Zealand”. We saved it.
George and Jean-Phillipe
Hi George! Yes, I did. Oh, there goes the neighborhood. :-) Maybe Jean-Phillipe could do his house?
For everyone else – If you’re interested, here’s the article: Hollywood Mythmaker Buys a Real-Life Pandora
Should you wish to resuscitate failed jam, reboil the whole lot with a pouch of jam setting mix (available from the supermarket, it’s just powdered pectin which is naturally derived from citrus), do the set test on a chilled plate, and rebottle when setting point is reached.
The beauty of this is that you can have it on your toast AND melt it down to pour over ice cream/mix it with whipped cream and put between meringues/drizzle over pavlova/use as a filling for handmade chocolates/make cherry clafoutis/etc…
Thanks Kiwi Chick. I did think about doing this. But I’d already had all those jars sealed and it was just too much work! Besides, this way I had more time to eat ice cream. :-)
Found your blog via WordPress feature, *waves Hi from CHCH* I planted my first cherry tree 3 years ago, I hope for abot 12 cherries this year!!
Anyway I think the reason for your failure is these ingredients
1 cup lemon juice
1 cup red wine
3 tablespoons vanilla essence
3 tablespoons pure maple syrup
You added too much liquid to the mix, which while it made it taste amazing, meant it wouldnt set. Next time you try it, add some pectin to help get a better set. Or just make amazing cherry sauce every year :)
And hello from Martinborough! Yes, I think you’re right. I thought all that lemon juice would make it set, but I suppose the red wine made that impossible. Who knows… maybe the cherry sauce will become a tradition. :-) And may your cherry tree give you years of sauce or jam, whichever you prefer.