Blackcurrant jam, a sharply sweet reminder of a life well lived

The summerhouse is bursting with fruit – and much of it has made it into jars, a preserve made to preserve a memory

There are 15 jars of jam from the summerhouse blackcurrant bushes. Half a day’s work. There has never been so much fruit here. A large bowl of redcurrants waits on Henri’s decision on what best to do with them. More jam most likely.

Henri’s mother, Ina, was the queen of blackcurrant jam, sharp and just sweet enough – the preserve not her. We bought another bush in her memory. How to mark the passing of a mother. Jam-making as meditation. Continue reading...


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