Last year when we were dating, I made up a batch of strawberry freezer jam and sent some home with Bobby. He raved, moaned in ecstasy and fell even more deeply in love with me when he ate it. There's just something about the substance that does that. I prefer freezer jam to cooked jam because it just tastes fresher; like you're eating a strawberry right off the plant.
Well, I made some this week and when Bobby came home in the evening and saw containers full of the sweet nectar he just about fainted. Then he pouted just a little bit when I told him he couldn't eat it for one day because it needed to set. So, to appease him, the next day I made some bread to go with the jam.
Because there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that is more splendid to eat than homemade bread and jam.
There's just something nostalgic about slathering warm bread with butter and gooey sweetness. It reminds me of going to Grandma's and always having fresh bread and jam when we got there....and then having thin pancakes with jam in the morning. I think that's probably where I got my love for freezer jam. Thanks Grandma!
So now Bobby's happy that he can partake in the wonders of fruit, sugar and pectin. I made a huge batch so that we can be stocked for the year. Up next: round two of freezer jam...the raspberries are going to be pickable soon and then we'll turn those suckers into sweet nectar too. My man should be content for awhile.