Crystal talked my damn ear off about her childhood on the four-and-a-half-hour drive up from Vancouver to the Okanagan. I told Karroll as much when we got to her place and Crystal went to use the bathroom.
“I told you to bring lots of tunes,” said Karroll and we rolled our eyes because we both love her.
Ten flats of fresh peaches scented Karroll’s basement suite.
I said, “That’s a lot of peaches.”
“Rock out with your cock out,” said Karroll.
We wasted precious time watching the sun sink into the hills of wine country. We drank local gewürztraminer and spread goat cheese thick on seedy crackers with red onion jam.
Finally, at midnight we fell into a rhythm of working together honed long ago in an Indian restaurant.
Crystal boiled kettles of water to sterilize five cases of jars. Karroll laid out fresh tea towels and clean jars on every surface. I scored X’s onto the butt end of each peach. Crystal plunged them into the boiling water just till they blushed, and then rescued them with a slotted spoon, shocking them in a sink filled with ice water. Karroll peeled off the skins.
Peaches are prone to browning so we worked quickly. I pitted and cut half of them in quarters, the other half in halves. Batch after batch, we got tired and admittedly drunk. I broke out a flap of cocaine an ex-boyfriend had left on my dresser amid a pile of change and guitar picks. Karroll broke out the Bon Jovi.
As the lone chef among us Karroll concocted the syrups. Super-light maple for the halves, super-light made with viognier and just the tiniest bit of white death for the quarters. Irony was alive and well in Vernon, BC; we still called table sugar ‘white death’ while snorting rails off Karroll’s Martha Stuart cutting board.
With the reverence of a sommelier we poured the steaming liquids over peach parts snug as babies in their wide mouth masons.
Peach juice streaked the counter tops, our aprons and finally the sky as, dazed, we returned the filled jars to vats of fast boiling water to form a vacuum seal.
Ever so gently, with tongs we placed each hot jar on the counter to rest undisturbed.
We stood staring for a long satisfied moment at our vast golden army of Christmas presents, of gifts for bosses and boyfriends we wanted to impress, at moments of summer miraculously saved for cold days ahead.
Finally we flopped, still sticky, onto Aerobeds on the living room floor, listening to the gorgeous hollow pops: our jars had formed successful seals. Crystal passed out in seconds, only to sit bolt upright a few minutes later insisting that tomorrow we would make plum chutney, homemade ketchup and more of that red onion jam.
“Cool. Rock out with your cock out, Crystal,” said Karroll.
And then I must have fallen asleep.
Jasmine Pahl has always wanted her name in a sentence with John Steinbeck’s. She works in TV news as a reporter and producer in Vancouver, BC.
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25 Responses to “BECAUSE WE CAN • by Jasmine Pahl”
Comments
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March 6th, 2008 at 4:57 am
Yum!
March 6th, 2008 at 4:58 am
Can I have the recipe for the red onion jam please?
March 6th, 2008 at 5:11 am
Some nice bits of writing but little character development and not much story. Didn’t do it for me, sorry.
March 6th, 2008 at 7:40 am
Love to try your peaches, Jasmine. Reminded me of how to make key lime pie with Vivaldi on the stereo and a bottle of Beaujolais in your hand. But the story…just…didn’t…develop.
March 6th, 2008 at 7:55 am
I was blown away by this piece. Shocked when I got to the rating and comments to find that so far I am the only one blown away. (Not that “Yum” isn’t a wonderful comment. I pray for a “Yum” from rumjhum! And I do want that red onion jam recipe. I just hope it exists!!!) But I expected “Brilliant,” “Insightful,” “Great voice.”
This is a reminder to me and to all writers that reading is a personal experience. I respect the opinions of others even when I don’t agree and keep that in mind every time someone reads my stuff and rolls his or her eyes.
But this piece was more than enough for me. I know those characters: reckless, edgy women yet who feel the need to impress with homemade jam. So FEMALE.
March 6th, 2008 at 8:03 am
I though this was charming. A peachy slice (groan sorry!!:$) of a life. Very detailed, and felt real. I’m with Oonah - can I have the recipe for the jam please?
March 6th, 2008 at 8:05 am
Just read Gay’s comment, and it was interesting that she picked this up. I can see how the implication was there, but the charm of the piece really came over for me.
March 6th, 2008 at 9:43 am
To elaborate - I appreciate the writing and think the laid-back style was refreshing, it’s just a personal opinion that I prefer to read something with more of a plot and/or further about the characters.
What I do like about EDF is that every day is different and different stories appeal more to different people!
March 6th, 2008 at 10:00 am
Worth reading just for the mental image of someone snorting cocaine off of a Martha Stewart cutting board.
March 6th, 2008 at 1:26 pm
I think this is a lovely piece. I can taste the food, smell the peaches and feel the humid okanagan air. Well done Jasmine.
And I love that your name was mentioned with John Steinbeck’s. Kudos!
March 6th, 2008 at 1:34 pm
I think the title of this piece gives it some of the character development that some commenters felt was missing from this piece. The only bit that confused me–working at an Indian restaurant together? I wasn’t sure if these women were Indian or not, although maybe that says more about my lack of cultural knowledge than the story
March 6th, 2008 at 1:37 pm
Shouldn’t the title be ‘Because we bottle’?
(runs for cover)
March 6th, 2008 at 3:57 pm
We selected this piece because the writing is beautiful and it was very different from the stuff we were seeing in the slush.
I thought it would go over better especially among women, but the rating is currently sitting at 2.9! What’s up?
March 6th, 2008 at 5:14 pm
LOL. And amen.
March 6th, 2008 at 5:16 pm
To my point exactly, Jordan!
March 6th, 2008 at 6:13 pm
I rather enjoyed it, Ms. Pahl. I have two old friends from college and we meet up together regularly. Some of our “eye rolling” is exactly like the relationships you sketched out here. Good writing, in my view!
March 7th, 2008 at 7:49 am
Thank you all for reading my story and for your comments, both positive and negative as all of your feedback helps me to move forward with my writing.
The red onion jam recipe is from The Bible at least as far as canners are concerend:’Bernardin’s Guide to Home Preserving’.
The jam is very cheap to make and if you make in the summertime it will have a beautiful bright pink hue. It’s great with goat cheese as i mentioned in the story and also deadly in a cold roast meat sandwich.
Here is the recipe, though if you haven’t canned before I HIGHLY reccomend getting the book at Canadian Tire or wherever. Makes three 250ml mason jars full.
1 cup diced red onion
2 tsp lemon zest
3/4 cup white vinegar
3 cups grnaulated sugar
Mixed fresh herbs like thyme, rosemary or sage(optional)
kosher salt and pepper (optional)
1 pouch liquid pectin.
Cut red onion into1/8 inch slices and cut slices into 1/4 inch dice. Measure 1 cup into large deep stainless steel saucepan. Grate out lemon zest. Don’t go as faras the pith or it wll be bitter.
Measure out all ingredients into saucepan except liquid pectin, herbs and S and P. bring to a full rolling boil.Boil hard 1 minute. remove from heat immediately stir in one puch liquid pectin, mixing well. Give a good grind of pepper and sprinkle in two pinches of kosher or pickling salt. Throw in a few leaves of thyme and rosemary if you like, they look really pretty.
Pour into hot sterilized jar, dividing solids equally among jars and filling jars to within a quarter inch of top. Lay one fresh sage leaf on top.
Place lids and screwcaps on jars, fingertip tight. Process in boiling water for ten miuntes(if you gon’t know what this is, GET THE BOOK)
Cool upright until lids pop. While jelly is still hot very gently twist each jar around so the solids are distributed evenly. Then allow to cool.
Enjoy.
PS if you don’t have pickling or kosher salt, leave it out. The minerals in regular salt can cause your jam not to set.
Rock out with your cock out,
Jasmine
March 7th, 2008 at 7:51 am
Thanks so much for your kind words, gay. I’ve posted the recipe at EDF.
March 7th, 2008 at 10:38 am
Thanks Jasmine
Rock with your cock out.
March 7th, 2008 at 2:00 pm
I enjoyed every word of this wonderful slice of life. I’m always blown away when a writer can take one of the more mundane activities of life and tell me a story with it. I was there like a fly on the wall waiting for an open jar of peaches
Thanks for the story and the recipe, Jasmine.
Keep writing, please.
ROWYCO!
March 18th, 2008 at 11:27 pm
I enjoyed the flash; a girly weekend with a difference. I could smell and taste it.
March 27th, 2008 at 4:03 pm
hi girlie. i liked your story. any peaches left over to send me?
March 27th, 2008 at 4:31 pm
Oh you know I do!
xo
March 31st, 2008 at 10:31 pm
I love you, Jasmine…. an honour to read your first published work. Reading this story, I felt that I was right there with you gals. My favourite part was flopping down, still sticky and listening to those tops popping with you. Keep on following your bliss!
April 18th, 2008 at 11:14 pm
Unfortunately, all the red onion jam recipes in the universe can’t fill soap dispensers. Unless you want to wash your hands with jam. What a palaver!
Yasmeen, here’s some advice from one bard to another: cocks are as generic as soap dispensers, and, as Oscar Wilde might have said, those who call a cock a cock are fit to use one. Don’t confuse the profane with the fresh.
Instead, fill soap, and find truth.
Bye!