I am a coffee drinker. Growing up in a cafe-loving city like Portland, OR, it was hard not to pick up the habit during my early high school years. However, every 18 months or so, I cut way back on coffee and switch to black tea. I don’t do it intentionally, there just comes a morning when I wake up craving the nuance of tea.

I am currently smack in the midst of a tea phase. However, this one isn’t as inexplicable as the previous ones have been. I trace it directly to a recent preserving project that Alexis from teaspoons & petals and I recently tried.

Wanting to see how fall fruit would work with a tea infusion, we imagined a few small jars filled with sliced poached quince suspended in a spiced chai syrup (our first collaboration was a peach oolong jelly) and set a date to make it happen.

The morning of our canning appointment, Alexis picked up an assam-based chai spiked with cinnamon and cloves from Philadelphia’s House of Tea while I ran to Reading Terminal Market to pick up 4 fragrant quince. After washing them well to remove any fuzz from their skin, we chopped the quince into slices, taking care to remove any hard inner bits and put them in water to poach until tender (this took approximately 30 minutes).

While they cooked, we made the syrup. I combined 1 1/2 cups granulated white sugar with 2 cups of water (this makes a fairly heavy syrup) in a medium saucepan and simmered until the sugar was entirely dissolved. Alexis measured out two generous tablespoons of the tea and tucked it into a paper infuser.

We let the tea steep in the syrup for 5 minutes, tasting after the time was up to ensure that the flavor intensity was where we wanted it (it was). When the quince slices were tender but not falling apart, we lifted them out of the water with a spider and dropped them into the syrup.

Then it was just standard canning procedure. Funnel slices into prepared jars. Top with syrup. Remove air bubbles and adjust syrup levels (1/2 inch headspace, please). Wipe rims and apply lids and rings. Process in a boiling water canner for 10 minutes.

The result of this experiment are three half pints jars of the most wonderfully spiced slices of quince ever. The syrup is also a revelation, we had a bit leftover and I spent a couple of days making myself spiced chai sodas with sparkling water. I’ve served one jar with slices of this gingerbread (good on its own, it’s a marvel when drizzled with this syrup and topped with a couple slices of quince).

The only thing I’d do differently in the future is that I’d wait to make the syrup until the quince were finished poaching and use some of that liquid. That way, I’d get even more of the quince flavor into the final product.

If quince are already gone from your area, you might try this recipe with slices of pear instead. I imagine they’d be wonderful with a spiced syrup like this one. Skip the poached step and instead just cook the pears in the finished syrup for a moment or two. Imagine that served with some creamy cheese. Boggles the mind, doesn’t it!

Related Posts:

• Guest Post: Elderberry Syrup with Alexis Siemons of teaspoons & petals
• November Can Jam: Rosy Quince Jelly

It’s day two of Drink Week! Today we’re talking boozy infusions (though I’m only scratching the surface of a very deep topic). These all would go well with a splash seltzer, so make sure to click over and enter the Sodastream giveaway. Make sure to check out the day one Drink Week post, Black Raspberry Syrup, too.

The inspiration to make Cherry Bounce came entirely from this blog post over on The Runaway Spoon. When I saw this one pop in my reader, I believe I said the words “oh yes” out loud. And when I picked up a mixed flat of cherries last weekend (half sweet and half sour), I knew that a pound of those sweeties were heading for a jar of this.

The process is incredibly easy (and is nearly identical to most of the fruit-infused booze I’ve made). Get a large jar squeaky clean (the half gallon Ball jars are perfect for this). Add some fruit (in this case, a pound). Top with a cup of sugar and some form of bourbon (I used five cups of Maker’s Mark*). This bounce should be reaching maximum deliciousness right around Christmas.

Other infusions use vodka or everclear (around these parts, we have to drive to New Jersey to buy our everclear), and wait to add the sugar until after the fruit has infused. But still, it really couldn’t be a simpler process to make your own fruity booze.

When it comes to infused spirits, you don’t have to stick strictly to fruit either. All manner of herbs, vegetables and even bacon (yes, bacon) are fair game.

In addition to the cherry bounce, here are some other infusions I’ve either currently got steeping in my front hall closet or I’ve been meaning to try.

I had Deena’s strawberry liqueur once when I was out in Portland, and wow, is it ever good stuff! I brought home a small amount and my sister nicknamed it Jam-Boozy on the spot. (Someone needs to market a product line with that name.) Because of that, I had no doubt that her Rhubarb Liqueur instructions would also be spot-on. I just recently strained mine and added the simple syrup. Now begins the waiting. Check out the rest of her “boozy” category for more good infusions.

I’ve also got a batch of Heather’s Limoncello cranking away in same said closet. I followed this particular recipe in large part because I was entirely smitten by the line “a cup of honey for that sensuous fuzzy bee flavor.” If you’re not reading Voodoo and Sauce, you’re missing out all sorts of lovely bits of language like that.

Audra of Doris and Jilly Cooks is another one of my infused spirit mentors. Though she hasn’t really posted about it, she has hinted her plum liqueur in this post. I plan to follow suit as soon as the plums are ripe.

Sean of Punk Domestic fame is a known booze-infuser. He had a guest post on David Lebovitz’s blog recently, about strawberry-infused vodka. Mmm.

What boozy infusions do you all like to make? Do you currently have anything steeping away in front hall closet (or basement, garage or guest bathroom?)

Don’t forget that I’m giving away a Sodastream as part of my week of homemade syrups, shrubs and infusions. Make sure to click over and leave a comment to enter the giveaway (one entry per person, please).

*For those of you who are curious, Maker’s Mark is a whisky bourbon. All bourbons are whiskys, but not all whiskys are bourbons.

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• Nothing to see here.

I grew up in a family with a fairly limited condiment scope. We ate ketchup on burgers, grainy mustard on hot dogs and sausage and dipped steamed broccoli florets into little puddles of mayonnaise. Pickles were cucumber dills, either eaten whole as a snack, or sliced and blotted before being stacked in a sandwich. Jam was strawberry or plum (made from the fruit off our backyard trees) and salad dressing was Good Seasonings, made from the spice packet in the branded cruet.

This isn’t to say I grew up in a community of boring eaters. We were among the first people I knew to regularly stock teriyaki sauce and my mom liked to make the Good Seasonings dressing a little more interesting with the addition of balsamic vinegar or toasted sesame oil. Real maple syrup was the rule. In fact, my brief devotion to the fake stuff caused my father a great deal of anguish. There was always soy sauce in the fridge and we had a wicked pickled ginger phase after my parents’ early nineties trip to Hawaii.

In recent years, it’s been deeply gratifying to branch out beyond my childhood condiments (although I still firmly believe that ketchup on a hot dog is sacrilege) and explore a broader world of homemade flavor. However, until very recently there was an area I’d yet to broach.

Pickled fruit.

I toyed with a recipe for pickled Seckel pears last fall, but preserved them in a gingery syrup instead. I contemplated pickled blueberries, but opted to simply eat the last of my picking out of hand. I was uneasy about it, fearful I’d make something off-putting and end up wasting good food.

However, when faced with nearly eight pounds of juicy, ripe cherries from the Washington State Fruit Commission (thanks Sweet Preservation), I knew the time was ripe to pickle. I consulted several recipes and concocted a brine that was sweet and tart. I added a few peppercorns for spice and a bay leaf for nuance to each jar, packed the cherries in and hoped for the best.

As you might have guessed, my expectations were far too low. These pickled cherries are amazing! They are sweet and puckery, and despite the water bath, managed to retain a bit of that snap and gentle crunch you get when you first bite into a really good cherry. I am smitten. If you are still able to get sweet cherries in your area I highly encourage you to make a batch.

Oh, and one more thing. If you live in the Philadelphia area, there’s going to be an opportunity for you to taste these, along with a couple other pickles I’ve made recently, so keep your eyes peeled. More on Monday!

Sweet Pickled Cherries
makes five pints

2 cups water
2 1/2 cups white vinegar
2 cups sugar
5 bay leaves
7-8 peppercorns per jar
3 pounds cherries, washed and stems trimmed

Combine the water, vinegar and sugar in a saucepan and bring to a gentle boil.

Place bay leaves and peppercorns into your jars. Pack the cherries in jars as tightly as you can manage, but without squashing them.

Pour brine over the cherries, leaving 1/2 inch of headspace. Instead of using a chopstick to remove any air bubbles, gently tap the jars on a towel-lined countertop so that the bubbles rise to the surface.

Wipe rims, apply lids and process in a boiling water canner for 10 minutes.

When jars are cool, check seals. Eat cherries with cheese and feel joyful.

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• Blackberry-Apricot Jam

I had such a wonderful time over the weekend in Seattle. I met so many amazing people, reunited with a dear old friend, taught a really fun canning class and saw my parents for the first time in nearly nine months. I have bunches of pictures from the weekend, and so expect a post in the next couple of days that will feature those photos, along with my thoughts about the first Canning Across American weekend (preview: it was a rousing success and I can’t wait for next year).

Before I start talking about plums, there’s a bit of giveaway business to wrap up. The blackberry jam goes to lucky number 13, which is the comment left by Linus (who is a web developer and pickle maker – nice combo). He also seems to be Philly-based, which means that I get to skip the post office this time around and see if I can’t hand deliver this particular jar.

Last week, before I left town, I made tentative plans to meet up with the Philadelphia half of Doris and Jilly Cook to take a Mood’s Farm field trip just a couple of hours after I returned from the trip. My parents thought this plan crazy, assuming I’d need the rest of the day to recover from the red-eye flight. Thanks to my exhaustion and an innate ability to sleep just about anywhere, I landed feeling fairly refreshed and ready to take on an afternoon of fruit picking.

The sheer abundance at the farmstand merely hinted at the bounty we’d encounter in the fields. The peach trees were hanging heavy with fruit and the raspberry canes were covered in the largest, most delicious berries I’ve met in about twenty years. We had plans to pick blackberries as well, but mid-picking decided that our containers would be better used for the raspberries.

When we headed back to the city, the station wagon carried nearly 100 pounds of fruits and vegetables. My personal haul included 2 1/2 pounds of raspberries (at $3.75 a pound, they were by far the most expensive item I’ve ever gotten at Mood’s), nearly 20 pounds of rosy peaches, two quarts of Gala apples (those are just for eating, I’ll get some fresh Granny Smith’s later in the season for apple sauce and butter) and four quarts each of Bartlett pears (for butter), Seckel pears (for canning whole and pickling) and Italian plums.

I haven’t tackled the pears yet, but last night I turned the raspberries into jam (stay tuned, I’ll have that recipe and giveaway up later in the week) and I canned four quarts of the plums in a honey syrup. Canning whole fruit like this couldn’t be easier, because beyond washing, the fruit needs no prepping (some recipes recommend piercing the skin with a sharp fork several times. I skipped it and the skins only barely cracked). You simply pack the raw, whole fruit as tightly as you can into your cleaned jars, pour the syrup in to cover, shake out the air bubbles and process. I tucked a cinnamon stick into each jar, but that’s as fancy as I got. The quarts process for 25 minutes in a boiling water bath and then you’re done.

So, if you have a glut of plums, this is a great way to handle them quickly and easily. When winter comes, you can eat them whole with yogurt or ice cream, make a cobbler with them, or even stew them down further and eat them over oatmeal. So, so good. Recipe after the jump.

Whole Plums Preserved in Honey Syrup

1 1/2 cups of honey
4 cups of water
enough plums to fill four quart jars (I used three of my four quarts)
4 cinnamon sticks, a vanilla bean sliced into four pieces or four star anise bits

In a medium saucepan, combine the honey and water and bring to a boil.

Bring a canning pot or large stock pot to a boil. Put your lids into a small saucepan and bring to a simmer.

Clean canning jars and pack the plums in as tightly as you can. Insert your cinnamon stick, vanilla bean or star anise. Fill jars with honey syrup, leaving 1/2 inch of headspace.

Wipe rims to remove all traces of any spilled honey syrup, apply lids and tightened rings. Process in a boiling water canner for 25 minutes (starting time when the pot returns to a boil after the jars have been placed inside).

When processing time is up, remove the jars to a cutting board or towel-lined countertop (as they cool and seal, they might spit out a bit of sticky syrup, so don’t let them cool on any surface that can’t handle that). Let the jars cool undisturbed for 24 hours.

When jars are completely cool, remove the rings, check the seals and wipe the jars down to remove any sticky residue. Label and store in a cool, dark place for up to a year.

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