A Canning Tutorial, for Humans or Zombies

This post originally appeared on the Zombie Preparedness Initiative website.

As a follow-up to my previous post, here are some more detailed instructions on water-bath canning.

First off, most of these steps are generic for any type of canning, but there may be slight variations depending on what you are canning. Always follow the specific instructions over the general guidelines below. If, in fact, the zombie apocalypse has already taken place and you are a zombie looking for directions on how to can brains, no recipes exist as far as I know, and you’re going to have to wing it.

Overall, the general idea is to sterilize the food and containers and then seal them, preventing contamination and allowing the food to be “shelf stable” without requiring refrigeration. We’re talking about bacterial contamination here; it is unlikely that a hot water bath would sufficiently destroy any lurking zombie virus pathogens.

Equipment

Propper jars, lids, and rings are necessary. Other equipment, such as a canning pot, funnel, and jar-lifter are not strictly necessary, but are cheap and easy enough to come by, that they are worth the time and effort they will save you. Rings and jars can be re-used, but lids must be new every time to ensure a good seal. Jars should be checked each time for chips or imperfections in the rim, which will prevent the jar from sealing.

Any pot will do for the canning, but it must be able to cover the jars with at least 1 inch of water. The bigger the pot, the more volume you can process at a time. Processing the jars can be the longest part, so processing more at a time can greatly reduce your overall time. Our standard canner can fit 7 quarts, and comes with a wire rack for holding and lowering the jars into the water. For items that don’t need such big jars, such as jams in half-pint jars, we just use a regular, large pot.

In the case of canning under threat of zombie attack, you will also need an assistant wielding the standard zombie fighting equipment, such as shotguns, chainsaws and kick-ass fighting music.

Steps

  1. Fill the canning pot with water and bring it to a boil. Sterilize the jars and rings in the canning pot. Heat the lids on low in a separate, smaller pot of hot water. This will help soften the plastic part of the lid, for better sealing.2013_05_19_9999 (2)
  2. Prepare the item to be canned as per the recipe (i.e. make the jam, prepare the brine for the brains, pickles, etc.). Note that some items may need to be prepared ahead of time, so it is very important to read the recipe first! In the case of brains, some of us have begun pickling ours years in advance. You’re welcome.
  3. Remove the sterilized jars from the hot water bath and place on a towel. Fill the jars with the item to be canned. The recipe will specify how much empty space to leave at the top of the jar, called “headspace”. This is important! Headspace varies depending on what is being canned. Too much headspace and the jar will not seal; too little headspace and the item may expand out of the jar, also causing the jar not to seal. If you are canning brains, “headspace” should be considered a pun, but you’ve probably lost the ability to appreciate humor.
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  4. If applicable, use a tool or any other flat object such as a butter knife or handy rib bone to release the air bubbles. The recipe will specify whether this step is necessary or not. It is not necessary with thick liquids like jam, but it is usually necessary for things that can easily trap air, like brains or pickles.
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  5. Wipe the rim of the jar with a towel. This seems trivial, but it is important! Any chips or drips will prevent the jar from sealing. If you are a zombie, try to keep your drooling and dripping away from the rim of the jar.
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  6. Get the lids out of the hot water and place them on the jars. We have a tool for this that is basically a magnet on a stick, but any kind of tongs will do to pick up the lids. Zombies may simply reach into the boiling water directly.
  7. Finger-tighten the rings over the lids. Do not tighten the rings as tight as you can. The goal is to allow air to escape when the jars are processing, without allowing water to enter the jars.
  8. Add the jars to the boiling water bath, making sure they are covered by at least 1 inch of water. If you are not a member of the undead, it is very useful to have a jar lifter for this part.
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  9. “Process” the jars by letting them sit in the hot water bath for as long as the recipe calls for. Processing time varies widely by recipe, and can be anywhere from 5 minutes to 35 minutes. Processing serves two purposes: the first is to heat everything enough to kill any bacteria, the second is to allow the contents to expand and force air out of the jar. This is mostly hands-off time, so non-zombie canners may lend a hand to defensive forces attempting to fend off undead hordes attempting to breach your canning location.
  10. Turn off the heat and let the pot sit for a few minutes with the lid off. Remove the jars from the hot water bath and place them on a towel to cool. As the contents of the jar cool, they contract, pulling the lid down firmly and making a seal. Sometimes a jar will seal as soon as it is removed from the bath, but it can take up to an hour. When a jar seals, it makes a surprisingly satisfying “snap!”
  11. In the event that your ears have decomposed, do not worry! After an hour or so, try pressing down the center of the lid. If it depresses, the jar did not seal. At that point, you can check the rim for imperfections, re-wipe the rim, and then try to re-process the jar. This often works to seal jars that didn’t seal the first time, so it is definitely worth a try. Any jars that won’t seal should be refrigerated immediately. This is not always a bad thing, because you probably want to try a jar right away anyway.
  12. Allow the jars to sit until they are fully cool. The recommendation is usually something like 12 hours, but in my experience a couple of hours is sufficient. Some items, like pickles, may need to sit for a certain length of time before they are ready. This information will be specified in the recipe. Zombies, try to remember to open the jar before eating the contents.

That’s it! Before you know it, your pantry will be stocked with long-lasting fruits and vegetables (or brains and other assorted body parts) that require virtually no upkeep, and will keep the occupants of any post-apocalypse bunker well fed and happy, human or otherwise.

Ollie Writes His Name

I’m actually waaay late on posting this one, but for posterity’s sake, Ollie did manage to write his name back on May 14th. Here is the photographic proof that I’m not lying, because he still had the scar on his nose from when he took a header onto the sidewalk in front of about a million food trucks. (Hopefully it was as legendary for them as it was for us: Ollie still talks about how his daddy heroically mopped the blood from his nose and mouth with a spare pair of underpants…)

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As you can see, he was quite proud. And I have to say, not too shabby for a just-turned-3-year-old! It’s not what I would call a straight line, but you can clearly see all the letters if you rotate it as you go.

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My First Gig

Evie’s school always has a summer festival, just before the end of the year. An email was sent out in preparation, and it included this sentence:

We also need musicians to play for the cake-walk – if anyone plays guitar, banjo or (my first choice) accordion please let me know.

My first impression was to wonder if Evie had somehow put her teacher up to this. As an accordion player, I think it is safe to say that your services are very rarely asked for, much less begged for. On one hand, I seemed WAY under qualified to play for someone. On the other hand, it seemed very unlikely they would find another accordion player, and it seemed like I just *couldn’t* ignore an email like that.

When I got to school on Monday morning, I cornered the teacher. “I have to ask you a question; why specifically an accordion for the cake walk?”

She laughed. “It’s just such a fun instrument, so much more fun than a guitar! My uncle used to play and we would just sit out on the porch and listen. We always had a good time.”

I couldn’t deny her those reasons. “Well, it turns out that I actually play accordion…”

And so, I soon found myself playing the pied piper to hordes of kids around a cake walk.

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Maybe it wasn’t quite so simple as it sounds. I was really reluctant to agree, and there was a little arm twisting involved. I really just couldn’t imagine playing my limited repertoire of beginner songs for anybody. But they had an answer for each of my excuses; “They’re only kids, they won’t know any better!” “They just get their cake and leave, nobody’s going to hear more than a few songs!” and “Even a bad accordion is better than a boring old guitar!”

I picked my 7 best “tunes” (calling them songs would be hopelessly optimistic) and practiced nothing but those 7 until I had them cold. Even still, I would usually make a mistake or two each time through. Even worse, the tunes were usually only 15 seconds or so, which meant I would have to loop them to get a good length. With only 7 songs, this would mean an endless repetition that would be sure to drive any adult who was stuck listening absolutely crazy.

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To my relief and amazement, it actually went way better than I could have guessed.

First off, I never really felt nervous. I kept expecting to feel nervous, and I joked about being nervous, because that’s what you do, but I never felt even the least bit of dread or butterflies. I guess I truly and finally have transcended the ability to embarrass myself in public.

Second off, I didn’t think about how loud and chaotic the whole place was. I assumed the sound would carry through the whole place, until all the adults were fighting to bury their heads under pillows and whatnot. In fact, it was barely loud enough to cover the cake walk area. This was definitely the first time I wished my accordion could be louder.

Finally, I think perhaps I didn’t give myself, or the accordion in general, enough credit. I made very few mistakes (again, these were very simple songs). Also, I think the accordion is a fantastic instrument in terms of making you look good. Despite what you may have heard about the accordion, it is hard to strike a sour note. Even basic proficiency like mine sounds grand and impressive, and most people don’t know enough about accordion to know that what I was playing was pretty simple. And lastly, for a cake walk, 15 – 30 second songs are actually pretty appropriate. Even if I knew a lot more songs, I still might have stuck to the same selection. Simple ditties just worked better, and this was one of the few times and places where “Mary Had a Little Lamb” was not only appropriate, but appreciated!

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I ended up only playing 5 of my 7 songs because I didn’t trust playing the other two without looking at the sheet music and it was a little too windy for that. On the upside, I looked way cooler just playing off the top of my head, but on the downside, it did really start to get repetitive towards the end. There were maybe 30 or so cakes, so I played each song a dozen or so times (remember, I was playing them twice around each time). Yeah, I could have used a few more songs.

We had started off doing it musical chairs style, but we quickly realized that would take too long. However, because we had started that way, all the kids were convinced they had to dart for a chair the second the music stopped, despite there being enough chairs for every kid. This meant that if I ever hesitated or made even the slightest mistake, all the kids would immediately dive for a chair, thoroughly highlighting my mistake.

All in all, I thought it went really well. At least nobody was mocking me openly. Later, someone even told me I had done well, and he had seen me “showing off” by playing with only one hand. I took that for a sign that I had successfully hoodwinked them into thinking I was much better than I actually was, “showing off” rather than “displaying a tremendous lack of ability and creativity”. And really, what better to strive for in life?

Quote Monday likes what he likes (apparently, prostitutes)

::Trying to work on Ollie’s pronunciation of ‘L’::
Sara: “Ollie, do you Like Lasagna?”
Ollie: “Lasagna.”
Sara: “Ollie, do you Like Little girls?”
Ollie: “No, I like working girls.”

O_O

Me: “Evie, are you where I told you not to be?”

Evie: “No, not anymore!”

Evie: “If I went in the dunk tank, I would hold my nose.”
Ollie: “Well, when I looked in the dunk tank I didn’t hold my nose and it didn’t fall off.”

Ollie: “Mama, why does the dunk tank make your nose fall off?”