Our little raspberry patch is cranking-out some big ones!
These were flash-frozen and added to those in the freezer.
Over two pounds.
Raspberry avalanche!
Door County, Wisconsin, USA - Where the strong survive and the weak are killed and eaten.
Our little raspberry patch is cranking-out some big ones!
These were flash-frozen and added to those in the freezer.
In the foreground is our raspberry patch.
It’s not very large and the variety(s) of raspberries we planted decades ago is lost to history. Most springs I prune and remove any dead canes and give it a good fertilizer drench formulated specifically for raspberries. While it is hardly neglected it doesn't receive the level of attention a commercial raspberry grower would give it such as tidy straight rows, diligent weeding and a trellis. We have an old school briar patch. This year I was worried that our modest berry patch might have been done-in. Finis.
Over winter the rabbits (or some other critter) chomped every single live plant down to ground level. I had to remove only a handful of dead canes and there wasn't much to observe above ground. Nevertheless, I fertilized it and crossed my fingers. And as it warmed-up, sure enough, raspberry leaves emerged from the ground and plants began to grow. So I fertilized it again; and a month later fertilized it a third time for good measure. I even went in there with a string trimmer and cleared as much of the grass and weeds as I could taking pains to avoid cutting any of the raspberries.
And in the last week the berries began to ripen. And there are a lot of them. The dog and I go out to the patch nearly every day to pick berries; and it looks like we're gonna be busy for a while. On a good day I estimate we'll gather almost a pint. Doggo is fond of eating the low-hanging fruit and I pick the rest. And eat some along the way. Consequently, we've got seasonal raspberries for table fare. Given the cost of diesel to get raspberries to the produce department of a local grocery nowadays, these gems are worth their weight in gold.

And we're freezing them for a wintertime treat. You haven't lived until you've had one of Jill's smoothies made with Greek yogurt, local honey and our own frozen raspberries.
The advertisement below dates back to 1964.
This was a time when home freezer ownership was becoming commonplace. At least it was in our household. I clearly remember the big, upright Sears Frost Free Coldspot freezer prominently ensconced next to the ancient beer fridge in the basement laundry room.
That freezer was a godsend as it allowed mom to freeze seasonal fruit, berries, homemade applesauce and her delicious baked goods. We'd stock-up on bakery from the day-old bread store and all manner of grocery sale items that could stand freezing found their way there. Amazingly, that freezer was still running when I bought my first house in 1984 and it was moved into my basement laundry room where it delivered years of maintenance-free service before the power company offered me a $100 savings bond to haul it away.
Anyway, back in the mid 1960s the market for TV dinners and convenience foods, including frozen pizzas, was expanding and naturally, Chef Boy-Ar-Dee dipped their toe in the market.
Ironically, I have no memory of a frozen pizza served our household; although we could get carryout from a local pizzeria on rare celebratory occasions. Chef Boy-Ar-Dee was a major player in the convenience meal niche and having dominated the boxed pizza kit sector the Chef brought to market a premade frozen pizza. Simple cheese or sausage and cheese.
Clearly the advertising is targeted to teenagers and their parents touting the frozen pizza as the ultimate party-perfect food; freezer to table in minutes.
Notably, this was the peak of Chef Boy-Ar-Dee as an independent company. In 1966 the brand was acquired by American Home Products; a national leader in convenience food offerings.
I have to say, the pizza pictured is not very appealing. There, again, frozen pizzas were a novelty in 1964; and after sixty years of culinary evolution they now command their own territory in the frozen foods section of a grocery to accommodate the selection. That's impressive progress for sure.
I should add that I have admittedly become a pizza snob; and make my own sourdough pizza and bread dough. I make pizza sauce made from San Marzano tomatoes grown - not in the rich volcanic soils in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius - but in marginal Door County soil in the shadow of Brussels Hill.
And I'm rather adept at it.
Over the recent holidays we were the recipient of any number of stocking-stuffer gifts; many of them edible. Cookies, brownies, candies, popcorn, a selection of fine English teas and much more. Most interesting was a one-pound bag of dried, pitted plums. Evidence of it being more blessed to give than receive?
An interesting gift for sure and knowing I would need some time to figure-out how to incorporate them into our diet I placed them on a shelf in the pantry aside the nuts and other baking ingredients. However, there was something about them that was different. Sort of off. I couldn't put my finger on it. Time passed.
Then, while watching a movie comedy on a recent evening I had a Eureka Moment. Fetching the bag I produced it for the Missus and asked if she noticed anything unusual? Nope. Anything odd? Nope. Anything missing? Such as branding, like Del Monte, Sunkist, etcetera?
Yup. That bag was devoid of any evidence of who produced and packaged it. Prominent in the generic packaging was a missive extolling the nutritional virtues of dried, pitted plums, a government website and a big, honking, USDA Logo. I'm no fool, I'm a tree farmer. And just like any other farmer or rancher I know the USDA all day long.
From all outward appearances we had come into possession of a one pound bag of genuine USDA surplus commodity dried pitted plums the likes of which find their way to school lunch kitchens, supplemental meal programs for seniors, children, qualifying families and food pantries.
This was nowhere near as exotic as being on the receiving end of a twenty pound block of surplus commodity pasteurized process American cheese food product but since we don't share surplus food commodities with poor nations any longer my dried, pitted, plums were clearly unworthy of needlessly languishing in my pantry; or worse yet - a landfill.
Ecstatic with solving the origin mystery of our bag of deep purple wrinkled fruits I was motivated to put them to good use. So I asked ChatGPT what to make with precisely one pound of dried, pitted, plums. Suggestions included all manner of cakes, tortes, braised meat dishes and more. Looking for easy I replied in clarification with one word: Jam.
I was going make some jam. Fortunately, I had everything necessary in the pantry so I put my prunes (that is what they are after-all) to soak overnight and ran a full dishwasher at bedtime to wash and sanitize a half-dozen half-pint jars in preparation for an easy-peasy recipe for prune jam the following morning.
Here it is...
Prune Jam — Water-Bath Canning Instructions
Why this is safe
Ingredients
Equipment
Step 1: Prepare Jars
Step 2: Make the Jam
Jam should mound on a spoon and wrinkle on a cold plate.
Step 3: Fill Jars
Step 4: Water-Bath Process
Processing Time
Adjust for altitude:
(I processed five half-pint jars for 30 minutes)
Step 5: Cool & Check Seals
Storage
As a general rule I do the cooking around this joint. And it's usually just the two of us. So it's not like I'm up to my elbows in pots and pans.
I was chatting with someone on a private FB page last week about how our dietary choice fit (or didn't fit) with HHS's new inverted food pyramid. We eat red meat with venison at the top of the list followed by chicken, pork and fish (typically salmon) as proteins. Beef is at the very bottom and is usually a ground chuck burger sourced from our butcher. We eat a pile of veggies and this time of year I eat Irish porridge (with blueberries) nearly daily. I also can and freeze produce from our garden, fresh-caught fish, venison in all forms and plenty of homemade soups.
We drink milk, use butter and cheese and have incorporated duck fat in frying potatoes for as long as I can remember. Having gotten air popper for making popcorn I picked-up some coconut oil to flavor the product with a little fat along with salt. I'm told it's a movie theater hack. I'll report on results later.
This time of year the weather conditions can be so unpredictable or inhumane that grilling outdoors or firing-up the brick oven isn't worth the trouble. Consequently, the new GE range with an expansive cook top, traditional oven/broiler and a second oven/broiler with convection and air frying settings allows for quite a bit of versatility.
In any event here's a few dinners from the last month in case you're nosy. And because we keep our own schedules for outside interests and activities we're not averse to leftovers in case someone needs to pack a meal or is eating alone.
It all works out in terms of variety and division of labor.
And for a couple of old farts our metabolic labs are in good working order.
You are what you eat.
Pork chop plate
Pan-seared salmon
Cheese and mushroom omelet - breakfast for dinner
Winner, winner, chicken dinner
If you are a pizza snob like me by now you would have noticed that imported San Marzano tomatoes are now selling for $6 (give-or-take) for a large can. Sure, you can purchase a quality domestic product for less $$$; but there is nothing like the genuine article grown in the rich volcanic soils in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius. Alas, the on-again, off-again, individually and personally negotiated Trump import duties (tariffs) are taxes that make imported food an expensive nuisance. Such is the price of snobbery.
If my household was supporting a spouse and three teenage kids consuming a gallon of milk a day I would also tell you the bread, fresh fruit, produce, beef, dairy, deli meat for lunches and eggs are also up in price too. And for a working family trying to make ends meet on the grocery bill along with sports uniforms and extracurriculars and a mortgage - life might be a challenge under Trump inflation and taxes. But he doesn't care. And I digress.
Last week, after putting the big garden to bed, I finally canned the last batch of San Marzano tomatoes grown in the crappy clay soil of my peninsula garden. One bowl yielded two last pints of these garden gems. So, yeah, there is a means to cutting costs. Grow your own applies to veggies too. And these are pretty darn tasty. My two - yes, only two - San Marzano plants were tomato factories. The bunker shelves are well-stocked.
In closing I want to announce that the big garden is being retired. It's being seeded into native pollinator cover this fall and I'm going to install 2-3 raised garden beds in the front yard and fill them with decent topsoil and composted goodness. I'm done gardening on my hands and knees. Furthermore, if I want to make a giant batch of pickles there is always the Sturgeon Bay Saturday Farmers Market.
After thirty years of gardening I'm scaling-back....
This is my raspberry patch.
Obviously not very big it is singularly, the most weed infested and neglected patch on the peninsula. Admittedly, I did fertilize it and cut out dead canes in earlier this year.
2025 has been a record harvest. Doggo and I picked raspberries (again) yesterday; freezing everything we didn’t scarf.
By my estimate I have more than 3+ gallons of these gems in the deep freeze.
I already have plenty of homemade jam in the bunker. I can certainly make more. I can also add these to a smoothie and my Irish breakfast porridge.
Judging from a couple of my Face Book pals there is likely a raspberry pretzel torte in my future....
Yesterday's Game Day wasn’t a complete loss.
Behold a dozen pints of the best homemade salsa this side of State Highway 29.
Those two San Marzano tomato plants are the gift that keeps on giving. Garden peppers too.
Raising a toast to gardening and canning….
Any of you who have paid a visit know that my raspberry patch is nothing
to write home about. It’s small, full of weeds and grass and survives
only slightly above benign neglect. Two varieties of raspberry
varietals were planted 20 years ago - the types lost to memory.
Nevertheless, every spring I cut most of the dead canes and give it a
good drench of Jung Seed Company ‘raspberry food’ from a watering can.
Summer production was steady; this fall it has been excellent. This patch is an overachiever.
The birds obviously get first dibs but Doggo and I pick every couple of
days or so - eating as we go. These are really good on vanilla ice
cream. Anything we cannot eat in short order is frozen. I think I’m up
to 1.5 gallons of frozen berries.
It has been a terrific year for tomatoes; half the number of plants and just about the same yield at harvest. I have a couple of San Marzano tomato plants that are not growing in rich volcanic soil in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius. The are thriving in crappy, Door County clay soil and are absolute tomato factories. Consequently, our diet features tomatoes at virtually every opportunity.
Tomato tart, tomato seafood stew, venison bolognese, caprese salad, you name it.
Just the other day I found myself with about 5+ pounds of ripe, San Marzano tomatoes so I whipped-together eight pints of homemade salsa and canned it for winter use.
We all know the uncomfortable truth; that our lover affair with fresh garden tomatoes is a brief and fleeting dalliance. Incredibly sensuous; and short-lived. By the time January rolls-around and Ma Nature is hurling freezing sleet against the windows and temperatures hover in the single digits we all would consider felonious behavior to get our hands tomatoes such as these.
Can 'em while you got 'em.......