Earthly Delights | Strawberry Preserve

 

 

In the triptych by Hieronymus Bosch, The Garden of Earthly Delights, painted in the early 16th century, the strawberry is commonly associated with promiscuity on account of its many seeds, but it is also viewed as being symbolic of the ephemeral nature of earthly pleasures. In the eyes of Fray José de Sigüenza, a librarian at the monastery-palace of Philip II of Spain, who acquired Bosch's painting in 1591, the work depicts "the vanity and glory and the passing taste of strawberries or the strawberry plant and its pleasant odor that is hardly remembered once it has passed”. [Quoted by Walter S. Gibson, “The Strawberries of Hieronymous Bosch,” in Cleveland Studies in the History of Art 8: 25]

In early medieval art, however, the strawberry was a symbol of perfection, of righteousness and of modesty. As the horticulturalist George M. Darrow notes in his book The Strawberry,"although it is conspicuous by its color and fragrance, it nevertheless bows humbly to the earth" [p. 13]. It is for this quality of "gracious innocence and purity" that St. Francis de Sales considers the strawberry to be deserving of our admiration and associates it with virtue because, although it lies on the ground and is "continually crept over by serpents, lizards and other venomous beasts," it is not "infected with any malign quality; a sign that it has no affinity with poison". [Treatise on the Love of Good, Book XI, Ch. 2]

 

The Madonna of the Strawberries (c. 1420)

 

The plant, simultaneously in flower and fruit, also features prominently in the background of the German painting The Madonna of the Strawberries, an early 15th century work by an unknown Upper Rhineland artist. In it, the strawberry, as was often the case in medieval religious art, is being used as a symbol of the Virgin Mary.

 

Although not specifically identified as strawberry, Jean Baudrillard, makes an intriguing philosophical analogy between jam and truth. "Terror is as much a part of the concept of truth as runniness is of the concept of jam. We wouldn't like jam if it didn't, by its very nature, ooze. We wouldn't like truth if it wasn't sticky, if, from time to time, it didn't ooze blood". [Cool Memories (1990), p. 197]

 

In Philip Roth's novel Sabbath's Theater, both jam and truth feel sticky and ooze: blood, rage, failure, subversion, anguish. Whilst eating slices of seeded pumpernickel slathered with strawberry jam, Mickey Sabbath – the novel's ageing, disgraced and unemployable anti-hero – is ruminating on sex and death. Sabbath's appetite for strawberry jam hints at his desire for "disastrous entanglement in everything" and his pursuit of self-gratification. Yet, his attempts to satisfy his endless desires via acts of exhibitionism, voyeurism, or fetishism, result in a feeling of loneliness, of being "locked up in me". But for critics such as Michiko Kakutani of The New York Times, Sabbath's pursuit of defiance against conventional moral codes and litrary norms lends the book "a static and claustrophobic air, resulting in a novel that's sour instead of manic, nasty instead of funny, lugubrious instead of liberating".

~ Strawberry Conserve ~

 

Strawberry conserve was my first serious attempt at the art and practice of jamming. Confined in the solitary atmosphere of my parents' house, looking after my bed-ridden mother, and raging against "eveything that was going" and my own lack of entanglement in everything, I took to preserving – seasonal fruit, time, a glimmer of light, my sanity. Liana, the lady who came to help with my mother's weekly bath, showed me how. This is as much her recipe as it has become mine and I have been making it ever since.

 

Ingredients

 

2 kg strawberries, washed and without stalks

1 kg caster sugar

80 g vanilla sugar

1 whole vanilla pod or 2 tsp vanilla extract

Juice from 1/2 medium lemon or 1 small lemon, strained

It makes 6 medium jars.

Notes: For a deeper flavour, use different varieties of strawberry. 

         I don't like overly sweet jams, so the ratio of sugar to strawberries that works for me is 540 g sugar per 1 kg fruit.
        To make vanilla sugar, insert dried vanilla stalks in a jar of caster sugar and leave for a couple of weeks. If you don't have vanilla sugar, replace with ordinary caster sugar.

Wash the strawberries well. Remove the stalks and cut into 4 or 6 pieces depending on their size.

Put the washed and cut strawberries in a deep pan together with the sugar in alternate layers, i.e. a layer of strawberries followed by a layer of sugar, ending with a layer of sugar that covers the strawberries. If using a whole vanilla pod, insert it between layers. Cover the pan with the lid and place in the fridge for 12 hours or overnight. This way, the strawberries will release their juices and you won't need to add any water.

The next day, give the strawberries a stir to ensure that the sugar is evenly distributed. Place the pan over low-medium heat in order to dissolve the sugar and stir constantly using a long-handle wooden spoon, to prevent the mixture from sticking to the bottom and burning. Once the sugar is dissolved, turn up the heat to high and bring to the boil. The mixture will start bubbling and rising to the top of the pan. Reduce the heat slightly to medium-high to avoid overflowing, all the while stirring with the wooden spoon.

Periodically skim off any foam that gets to the side of the pan. Be careful not to overskim or else you risk reducing the juices and settintg the jam too hard. What I like to do is let the skimmed foam cool slightly in a bowl, remove the top layer carefully with a spoon and then return any syrupy liquid underneath back into the pan.

After 15 minutes, when a jam thermometre reaches 105 C / 220 F, take the pan off the heat, remove the vanilla pod (if using) from the pan and gently crush the strawberries with a potato masher or hand-held mixer, leaving some bigger pieces. Split the vanilla pod down the centre with a sharp knife, scrape the seeds off and return them to the mixture.You can wash and dry the vanilla stalk and use to make vanilla sugar.

 

Add the strained lemon juice and return the pan to the heat. If using vanilla extract (instead of a vanilla pod), add it to the jam at this stage. Turn the heat up and boil for 3-5 minutes, counting from the moment it starts boiling, until the jam reaches setting point, stirring all the while.

When the jam is done, remove from the heat and leave in the pan for a few minutes until it stops bubbling. Place in sterilised jars, secure the lids firmly and turn upside down on a wooden board until they have cooled down, for a day. Then turn them right side up again and store in a cool, dry place.

 

To check if the jam is done: Drop a small spoonful of jam onto a frozen plate. Let sit for 1 to 2 minutes; if the jam crinkles and separates when you push it with your finger, it's ready. If the jam appears thin and runny, continue cooking until it's set.

To sterilise the jars: Wash both the jars and the lids in hot soapy water. Place the jars upside down on a tray lined with a clean towel and put in the oven that has been pre-heated at 100 degrees C for 20-30 minutes, until they are dry inside. Place the lids in a pan and pour boiling water over them. Leave for 5-10 minutes, then dry with a clean towel making sure not to touch the inside with your bare hands.

You can use this method to make other types of berry jam, adjusting the amount of sugar depending on the tartness of the fruit. 

 

Enjoy with a fresly brewed cup of tea!