insane industrious this morning, I bought 75 pounds of tomatoes from our cute-as-pie CSA farmers. And so begins a two-day weekend of canning suckage.
So worth it, though, for a year’s supply of salsa, spaghetti sauce, and stewed goodness. Opening a jar of tomatoes in the dead of winter results in a most enjoyable sensory overload — the smell of summer permeates the kitchen, and the flavor is much more intense than a can of Del Monte. Once you’ve experienced it, there’s no going back to store-bought.
More on the process later this week. Assuming I survive.