Last Sunset, Last Twilight, Last Stars of December. And so this year comes to an end, a year rich in small everyday events of the earth, as are all years for those who delight in simple things.

- Edwin Way Teale

Hello Everyone.

It happens every July. When the strawberries ripen, the canning kettles come up from the basement, and mason jars are rinsed in hot, soapy water. Then, they are set in hot water to boil while I prepare the berries for jam. At first, it is like driving a car in winter, remembering not to punch the brakes too fast or turn the steering wheel in the same direction the wheels are sliding. All this takes practice and remembering until instinct kicks in. It's the same with jam.

I have been making gifts from my kitchen garden for myself and others for as long as I can remember. If I waited until December, I'd have to bake cookies and fruit cake, but I am not a baker. I am a cook. I enjoy taking fresh ingredients from my kitchen garden, simmering with spices and sugar, or chopping with herbs and garlic. The resulting alchemy is packed into a mason jar, sealed, and stored in a cool, dark cupboard until December, when it is time to indulge fully.

There is very little that a gardener can do this time of year except to close your eyes and dream. Planning is a large part of why I like to garden; the notion behind drawing out a design on paper first and tagging seed catalogs extends the season long before it arrives, allowing excitement to build. Gardens are not built in a day, and there is never a final plan. This is the time of year to visualize the garden as a sanctuary as much as a place to grow food.

I recently told a friend I wish I knew how to knit, in part because making a hat or mittens at least has the tangible, long-term quality that giving a jar of jam does not have. But that could be the hidden beauty of giving a gift from the garden, here today, gone tomorrow. Lingering in the memories of our tastebuds.

For over 20 years, my favorite gift-giving jar has been a ginger peach chutney, a recipe from a neighbor who grew up in the south where peaches were aplenty. She became weary with age and could not stand at the counter to chop or lift the heavy Le Creuset enamel pot. This pot had seen many batches of jam cooked down to a thick, unctuous spread without pectin and beef stew that might simmer all day on a back burner. While she sat on a kitchen stool directing me, I followed her recipe for peeling and slicing peaches, adding thin slices of red onion, hot pepper, and plenty of freshly grated ginger to the pot.

Once the chutney was finally on the stove, simmering, she advised me to walk away while it cooked. "You can't rush chutney," she insisted. "Let it cook low and slow. You’ll know when it is ready when it appears glossy." After an hour, that’s precisely what happened, transforming from a chunky melange into a fragrant condiment.

Cooking chutney is not as immediately satisfying as making chocolate cake, cookies, or a sweet filling for bread because licking the pan has no redeeming features. But it does require me to plan in August to expect to have it ready by December. The same is true for pickles because fermentation takes time. Even making jam is not an instant reward since I refuse to open a jar before December when summer in a jar is most appreciated.

All types of canning require patience, with a bit of trust thrown in for good luck. The same is true for planning a kitchen garden; begin thinking now of the foods you most love to eat fresh in the summer or canned in the winter or to make gifts from your garden. Make that list, then start sketching a design for how they will all fit together into one beautiful kitchen garden. Dreaming, looking at photos, reading books — educating yourself in all the ways to grow food, because it truly matters.

Gift-giving has become a tireless pursuit for those who buy, yet giving something made with love will hopefully be appreciated. But not always. I've noticed that jam, chutney, and pickles are everywhere – easily purchased in the store or from a local farm – when I gift a homemade jar, it is sometimes eyed with suspicion. Is it safe to eat, I can hear them think.

If made with good ingredients and loving care, I will always believe that what we eat will nourish us in unexpected ways -- from the inside out. So, be gracious if you receive a jar of chutney, jam, or pickles. And then ask for the recipe so you can make it yourself next summer.

From my kitchen garden to yours.

Ellen Ecker Ogden

Kitchen Gardener / Author and Cook

p.s. I have a special free giveaway for anyone who loves to save seeds: A few years back I had the notion that seed saving boxes were a good idea — and created a small business of creating them. Cleaning the basement recently, I find I have extras to give away — in different sizes. If you would like to receive a seed box, complements from me with no extra shipping charges — DM me by responding in the comments. There are three sizes - but limited numbers to send, so act soon. Let me know if you prefer small, medium or a large box. Photo below of the small size, and what you will receive, although without fancy labels, or seeds. Those are for you to collect and save.