Peaches are not baseballs.

Last week my mom and I gathered to can peaches.  This is remarkable for two reasons:  One we were in my kitchen which really threw Nana for a loop.  Two, this year marked the 33rd year {one more?} that my mom has canned peaches.  Ironically, neither my mom nor I enjoy canned peaches but my dad and my children do, so we can.  Love preserved.

Ha.  Cheesy right?

Canning peaches sounds all pioneer-like, which is probably why it’s so trendy right now.  To ensure my trendy status, next week I’m going to start cross-stitching.  Rest assured, this was canning as a family tradition, not canning-so-I-can-post-my pretty-pictures-on-the-internet-sort-of-canning.

The canning process is simple, but time-consuming and my mom makes it look easy.  She always does this in the kitchen.  Cooking isn’t her passion, but she can cook and host an elaborate Thanksgiving dinner for 30 without skipping a beat.  She has cooked thousands of dinners for our family over the years and they are always delicious.  She does this without complaint and certainly would never boast about it.  She is modest and humble and shares her love by serving others.  I am an eager student, always learning from her servant’s heart.

While standing side-by-side at the sink {alternating flamingo poses – another family trait} peeling the first box of peaches, various pots on the stove simmering, we heard a funny noise.  Thud, thud, thud.  It sounded like peaches hitting the ground.  Hard.

Indeed it was.  Charlie and William having lost interest in their lunch, decided to empty the contents of the two remaining – and full – boxes of peaches onto the deck.  Looking back I wish I had taken a picture of the crime scene – peaches strewn about, some even covered in bark, the boys looking thrilled by their game – but I didn’t.  Instead I calmly and carefully picked up each peach, assessing the damage.  It should also be pointed out that I remained cool as a cucumber.

We gathered the peaches and brought them safely inside.  Carefully working through the pile we sliced {hacked?} the bruised *baseballs* and salvaged enough to can 21 jars.  The peaches that didn’t survive the baseball game were instead turned into a double batch of peach leather, which tastes delicious and reminds me of when I was a little girl.

Much was preserved that day.

yes, alex has pointed out the obvious, but I think they look darling!


Homemade Peach Leather

Puree 4 cups of peaches, 1/2 cup of sugar and 1 Tbs. of lemon juice.

Cook in a saucepan over medium heat until thick, about 30 – 35 minutes.

Pour onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, make sure that mixture is distributed evenly.

Bake at 180 degrees until dehydrated, about 4-6 hours.

Let cool for 10 minutes.  Cut and roll into parchment paper.  Store at room temperature for up to 1 month.


5 thoughts on “Peaches are not baseballs.

  1. Oo! fruit leather recipe looks good :) My mom and I just canned tomatoes last week. Passed down from my grandmother who did it every summer as well. I guess its just tradition

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