It’s been a while since my last post, but I have a perfectly
good explanation: my dog ate my homework.
You know how some people just inspire the crap out of
you? My high school art teacher
was/is one of those people.
In a school where boys were expected to be jocks, or
permanent residents of the metalwork room, her classroom was a safe haven for
the creative Goth nerd that I happily was (still am, really. It’s just my hair that’s less absurd).
She’s one of those “cool” teachers who never tried to be our
best friend by dumbing herself down.
There was never any question who was in charge in that classroom (even
my attempts to hi-jack the stereo are proof of that). There was never any “oh Captain, my Captain” grand-standing,
or such twee attempts at getting on anyone’s good side.
We learned.
We grew.
We were inspired.
And we did all of those things because Enid somehow held
that space for us. In the course
of a few one hour sessions a week she heard our adolescent gripes, perceived
persecutions, and (completely self-indulgent) woes. All the while helping us to hone our skills, find our
voices, merge the two, and get it down on canvas.
After these many moons we’ve thankfully reconnected through
the many-tentacled Cthulu of social media. The only difference in my esteem of her now is that I see
she’s incredible in her home life too!
Stunning photography, mouth watering recipes, a wicked sense of humour,
and a geek-tastic appreciation of all things pun-related (a woman after my own
heart).
So it’s in the spirit of a sheepish student walking in with
his belated assignment that this post comes to you.
Shared with me as a birthday prezzie (from my beloved Enid), I give you:
Enid's Even Better
Plum BBQ sauce
16 c plums, halved & pits removed
8 c apples, cores removed, and cut into chunks
1/2 c apple cider vinegar
4 cups homemade
blackberry juice,
1 head fresh garlic, peeled
2 Tbsp tamarind
1 head fresh garlic, peeled
2 Tbsp tamarind
1 Tbsp kosher salt
1 tsp mustard
1 1/2 Tbsp fresh chopped ginger
1 large white onion, peeled and cut into chunks,
1 tsp mustard
1 1/2 Tbsp fresh chopped ginger
1 large white onion, peeled and cut into chunks,
1/2 med red onion, cut into chunks
1 habanero pepper with seed, stem removed if necessary
1 habanero pepper with seed, stem removed if necessary
1 c molasses
3 cans tomato paste
3 cans tomato paste
Put all ingredients
in a large stockpot. Bring to a simmer,
and allow to cook slowly for 5 hrs or so, stirring often. Blitz smooth in blender, simmer some
more, can in boiling water for 10 min.
A few words about this (yes, I’m still arguing with teachers): this recipe is not set in stone. For example, the first batch I made fell short on a few ingredients. I didn’t have blackberry juice or tamarind at my disposal. I did, however, have a bag of frozen mixed berries in the freezer (blue, black & raspberries), which could be quickly thawed, and the juice pressed out of them.
I also added a
couple pinches of cumin seeds, used only white onions, and instead of habanero
pepper I threw in a few dried guajillo peppers.
You can also adjust
the sweetness after you’ve blended your sauce. Honey, maple syrup, brown sugar, agave nectar etc, are all
great options. At this point you
can also add other things like cayenne for extra spiciness, a bit of ground
cumin, or even some smoked paprika if you believe unsmoky BBQ sauce is nothing
less than heresy.
As for advice on the
canning side of things, well, once more I direct you to YouTube or bernardin.ca. This was my first attempt at canning,
and as I type this the lids are still popping away in the kitchen, so who’s to
say I know what I’m talking about.
So, I dedicate this post not only to Enid, but to all teachers, and friends who are teachers, and those who once were teachers, and friends who have been inspired by teachers. They not only take responsibility for our education (often going WAY beyond "two plus two equals..."), but it turns out they have some damned fine recipes in their repertoire, too.
So, I dedicate this post not only to Enid, but to all teachers, and friends who are teachers, and those who once were teachers, and friends who have been inspired by teachers. They not only take responsibility for our education (often going WAY beyond "two plus two equals..."), but it turns out they have some damned fine recipes in their repertoire, too.