Stick to your ribs strawberry jam

Strawberry jam: one of the basics of jamming.  It’s the starter jam everyone begins with before moving onto more complicated ones.  It’s the first hole in miniature golf, the kiddie hills of skiing, the splash pool, the old mere horse, the beginner’s stage of everything, you know: the easy stuff.  And each time, I mess it up.

I just made my first batch of the season and I have created stick to your ribs strawberry jelly, not jam, but cement like jelly.  The kind of stuff that would be better sliced and served like cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving dinner.  Yep, I messed it up that badly.  Each and every time I make strawberry jam I have a problem; it’s way too thin, the berries don’t cook right, or, I get mortar.  I can make the more complicated jams.  Chestnut jam is firmly set in my repertoire, and I quickly mastered quince jamming, which is not easy, but there is something elusive about strawberry jam to me.  I just can’t get it right.  Maybe I’m too impatient since it’s also the first fruit of the season.  Maybe it’s because Chantal, who showed me how to make all the other jams, only explained this one to me.  I’ve asked everyone I know who makes jam what they do, and everyone tells me the same thing, “Oh, it’s easy”.  Then, their eyes get wide when they hear how badly I’ve messed it up.  It doesn’t bother me, but I’m getting worried as bags and bags of strawberries are starting to accumulate in the freezer.  Maybe, just maybe, I should turn to tarts - but they seem like such less of a challenge for me.  At least this way, I won't have strawberry scented cement at the breakfast table.