For me the real action takes place somewhat off the main drag, in the neighborhood of the Agricultural Hall. Earnest young 4-H'ers solemnly prepare their Angora rabbits and Nubian goats for showing while proud farmers display their best peaches, strawberries, and cabbages. In one corner, would-be Food Network Stars vie for prizes in contests involving Ghirardelli chocolate or Pillsbury pie crusts, while in another quilters and embroiderers display their cold-weather projects in the hopes of applause and cash awards (up to three whole dollars for a coveted blue ribbon!).
Sir is accustomed every year to winning at least one ribbon for his photography (he always submits one color pic and one in black-and-white), but fears he will never again equal his 2010 triumph in which he was awarded a huge flouncy purple Best-In-Show extravanganza for his delightful composition involving a small yellow bird (possibly a Japanese White-Eye) on a plum blossom branch, taken during one of his many Tokyo sojourns.
This year, as I have hinted elsewhere, I decided to get in on the act. What better way to celebrate my new-found love of home preserving than by joining the gingham-aproned grandmas and submitting some Ball jars for assessment by the area's leading experts? I polled various family-members and tasters and selected two varieties: my famous banana jam (category: jam, other) and my not-so-famous but (if I may be so immodest) devastatingly delicious small-batch, crystal-clear blueberry jelly (category: jelly, other).
And what do you think I found yesterday when I presented myself nervously at Ag Hall, where the literally hundreds of jars of pickled vegetables, jams, jellies, chutneys, and canned fruit lay neatly arrayed along rows and rows of white wooden shelves?
I just may hang up my lab coat and go into business. Fractured Amy, award-winning preserver and jelly-maker to the stars!
But first, I need to take my three-dollars' winnings and get myself a gingham apron.
2 comments:
Amy, congratulations, thank you, what a wonderful gift! If it wasn’t for your blue ribbon I could have resisted longer bungling its perfection.
(Paraphrasing my favorite Romanian poet with his “Imperfect works” my daughter declaimed at its side : “all, but all indeed will say, aahhh what perfect jar of jam would this have been if it wouldn’t have been... half empty!”.
But the goodness in it she won't try... Upon reading your blog I actually went to ask your sir advice on how to get one's child to try new foods, without recurring to physical violence. He said there is no getting the child there there is just waiting, it involves patience not science :( ).
But the gift touched me as this year I just did not mustered the courage to go back to the Fair as on the closing night of the 2010 edition I left crying and wept all the way home of such an unbearable heavy sadness the car must have been tilted like if with a broken tire on my side.
I lost it looking at preserves and corn field and dried beans, the sealers of the circle, closed with me out of it. The fertile stage of the year closed and useless me did not contribute a thing: I did not help deliver any crop, did not watch any plant grow, did not help bring up a fruit, did not assist any of their departures, by saving at least a seed at the end of the cycle.
And I did not improve this year (the kids are still young the job is still full… of itself) so did not dare go back and you made it look like the Allentown Fair came to me. Thank you!
It wasn't one of my prize-winners, I'm afraid - but I thought the jar was prettier.
I'm dismayed you ever left the fair feeling unbearable sadness - it's supposed to be a happy, happy place! Maybe next year ... in the mean time, I hope you will plant your seed and watch it grow.
Post a Comment