"No eggs, no buttermilk, no baking powder. How simple is that?" If you missed Sarah Karnasiewicz's excellent piece in Salon last month on preserving, it's worth going back to read. Like Sarah, I was also bitten by the jamming bug this season. But while Sarah made a transcendent batch of Kentucky bourbon strawberry jam, I was less successful. My strawberry-port jam was more like strawberry-port soup. It tasted intensely fruity and addictively sweet, but there was no way it would ever adhere to a piece of toast—not even one that had already been slicked with sticky peanut butter. There was only one thing to do: when life gives you six jars of runny jam, you make lots of pancakes....
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