Time in a Bottle?

By Angela Denstad

Time and again we talk about the weeks flying by, we compare the current weather to that of past seasons, we remark on the changes we notice from year to year. Whether small talk or the most profound poetical musings, it all amounts to more or less the same thing: Time passes. And as it does, there’s comfort in predictability, a familiar grounding of ourselves in the world’s routines.

Except, as Joan Didion once noted, “It is easy to see the beginnings of things, and harder to see the ends.” The first trill of spring birdsong is a marked beginning, an unmistakable alteration of the status quo. As that chorus swells and develops over the summer, cicadas buzz in, and eventually, we prepare to make another shift (always a little rushed, it seems), as the crickets make their entrance. But I never really notice the exact day all those audible signs of life stop.

We watch and wait, observing the first green shoots, anticipating the first ripe tomato. But somewhere in between when we’ve had our fill of sweet corn and when everything turns to pumpkin spice, there is the last of things. Some are bittersweet, just a seasonal finality; others might never come around again.

Was this the last cucumber? Will I see that cute little rabbit in the yard again? Will the roses survive the winter? No one knows for certain.

What is certain is that the poets have given fair warning. “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,” begins Robert Herrick’s famous verses, “Old Time is still a-flying.” And in summer, we are fortunate to be able to gather up the fruits of the season, to bottle up what results from many long summer days of sunshine, storms, and all the life that circulates around a garden and its harvest.

I recall the haunting refrain of a song I heard when I was a child that imagines saving time in a bottle. And in a sense, that’s what all those industrious home canners are doing; they’re preserving what remains of time spent planting and harvesting and cooking in a tangible form that will nourish them for seasons to come.

I’m more an itinerant gardener, helping with a task or two from time to time, mostly just benefitting from the generosity of others. As for preserves, I put up a few good memories every year, maybe some jams and pickles, and I try to enjoy my time fresh every day, since I’m still unskilled in bottling it, and I try not to let it go to waste.

 

Quick-Pickled Zucchini

½ cup water, room temperature

2 tablespoons plus ½ teaspoon kosher salt, divided

1 medium zucchini, about a pound, sliced 1/8-inch thick

1 small yellow onion, halved and sliced 1/8-inch thick

3 ice cubes

2 cups apple cider vinegar

1 cup granulated sugar

1 ½ teaspoons mustard seed

¾ teaspoon turmeric

½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, optional

 

In a large bowl, stir two tablespoons of salt into the water until dissolved. Place the zucchini and onion slices into the salt water, add the ice cubes, and add additional cold water as necessary to cover the zucchini. Cover or weight with a plate and allow to rest at room temperature for an hour.

Meanwhile, combine the vinegar, sugar, ½ teaspoon salt, mustard seeds, turmeric, and red pepper flakes in a small saucepan over medium heat. Simmer for 3 minutes, stirring occasionally to be sure the sugar has dissolved. Remove from heat and set aside.

Drain the zucchini mixture in a colander and remove all excess moisture, either by using a salad spinner or rolling it up in a clean kitchen towel.

Place the zucchini mixture in a quart jar. Pour the pickling liquid into the jar, making sure the vegetables are fully submersed. Place a lid on the jar and refrigerate for at least 24 hours before serving. The pickles can be stored in the refrigerator for up to two months.