I see a weathered red barn in a rural landscape of growing crop fields, and I’m flooded with memories. Summer in farm country to me, is one of county and state fairs with stiff competition among the bakers and cooks for ribbons.
I think of time spent in kitchens sterilizing jars in water baths, and then carefully ladling warm paraffin wax on Mason jars filled with watermelon rind pickles, berry jams, and apple butters. There are so many vegetables that can be pickled, and I remember walking into root cellars and basements seeing shelves of canned pickled vegetables.
There are so many tasty, wonderful foods that come from a farm kitchen. I remember eating fresh sweet corn, tomato jam and crappie fish caught at a fishing hole.
I guess I have sweet memories, and some tasty recipes handed down to me to cherish.