The peach lady was back in town last Wednesday. I bought 1/4 bushel, intending to come straight home and peel them for peach jam, but they were not quite ripe enough, so I left them in the bag to ripen. By Friday, they were perfect. I peeled and chopped them, and put them on the stove to cook. After about an hour, I added spices and sugar to the pan, and turned the heat down to a simmer. I set a kitchen timer to alarm in 10 minutes to remind me to stir the mix, and then I went to the sewing machine to start sewing an outfit I'd cut out for Maddie a week earlier. The kitchen timer idea worked wonderfully for about three stirrings...then I forgot to re-set it. Some time later - not sure how much later - as I was at the sewing machine, I smelled a sharp, peachy smell. I dropped the sewing and ran to the kitchen, but it was too late; the jam had scorched.
About an hour later, my husband came home with two gallons of fresh figs that a co-worker had sent to me. I groaned at the sight, considering my luck with jam this year, and knowing that there were peas and tomatoes in the garden that needed my attention.
Yesterday morning, I got moving early. I sliced about half of the figs and put them in the food dehydrator, then I went to the garden. Nanny had already picked the peas and tomatoes. She was in the process of shelling the peas, and had lined up the tomatoes on our "ripening table" under the tree. I took the ripest ones and brought them home to can. While the tomatoes were cooking, I ground up some of the figs and used them in a fig cake. (Boy, was it GOOD!) The rest are soaking in sugar syrup in my refrigerator.
Maybe I should forget the whole jam idea, and just make cakes.
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