i be jammin'

Along the driveway, at our old blue house in Colorado, we had a big old plum tree. When we first moved in to that house the local farmers told us it was an Italian Plum tree. It only made sense that the plums were Italian, since that area of town was originally inhabited by mostly Italian people. In fact, many of the farmers that still farmed the land around our house were Italian and the first time they saw my husbands grandfather they excitedly asked..."is he Italian?" They were more excited when they were able to speak back and forth to him in Italian. It was at that time that we were "accepted" into the neighborhood, being that my husband was half Italian and all. 

The first year that we had a bumper crop of plums on that tree was the first time I tried my hand at making jam. It was delicious. That was around the time that I discovered my now favorite scone recipe too. Plum jam and scones soon became my most served breakfast item, especially to out of town visitors staying at our house. In fact, one of my old friends who came with her family called our house 'The [insert last name here] Manor' and thought it was a perfect house for a bed and breakfast. Well, the house definitely had the look and if you spent the night in one of our beds you probably got breakfast the next morning, so I guess it was kind of like a bed and breakfast.

We didn't get plums every year due to the fact that spring weather in Colorado can sometimes be pretty winter-like and the poor little blossoms would often freeze just as they were looking pretty. Or, if they were lucky enough to withstand a spring freeze and snowfall, they would often get blown away with the fierce spring winds that blew through the rockies. However, every other year or two, the little blossoms would hang on for dear life and end up producing the best little purple plums. The kids loved to ride their bikes by the tree, pluck off a plum and devour it before making their next loop around the driveway. They would help to pick the plums, wash them, cut them open and remove the pits on jam making day. We loved quietly watching the cooling jars of jam sit on the counter waiting for the little "ping" of the lid, letting us know that the jar had sealed properly. Every ping was like a pat on my back saying "good job you successfully made a jar of jam!" The even greater success was tasting the first bite of jam. I always skim a little off the top and put it in a bowl on the counter. A little fresh warm jam spread on a Townhouse cracker is about the best little taste treat ever.

Just one of the things I knew I would miss when we moved away from that old blue house was the plum tree. Our homemade plum jam would never be again.  

Until I spotted these at Costco last week!

 The package says they are Italian Prunes and they were in a plastic box from Oregon rather than off an old tree by an old house in Colorado. But they look the same. So, we bought a box. Yesterday, I didn't have little hands helping me wash, slice open or pit the plums... but I made jam.

                                                  Plum jam. Italian Prune jam.
         And even though the plums/prunes came in a plastic box from
                                                 Costco, it is delicious.

It was one small batch. We did have the warm, skimmed off jam on crackers. And this morning I am smiling at my table centerpiece. And...I can recycle the plastic box.

I think I will be making scones.