Last year, I canned pickles. Just pickles. Maybe six quarts of bread and butters, which didn’t turn out great, and about seven quarts of garlic dills, which really, really did.
Pickles are reasonable. Pickles are pretty normal. Were I to have just done pickles again this year, I think I would’ve been fine. I would’ve been happy.
Instead, I got bit by the canning bug. Hard. Blinded by delusions of my own domesticity, I expanded my canning horizons fairly significantly this year. And now, I have a raging case of canning fatigue. Thank goodness the growing season for things amenable to hot water bath canning is pretty much over. Stop looking at me that way, Brussels sprouts. YOU JUST STOP. Continue reading