I’m back from a week-long work trip to Italy where I stayed one night at this fairytale place called Castello Vicarello in Maremma, Tuscany (a region not yet overrun by turisti within a region that is known for being very much so).

Turns out Aurora, the owner, makes her own jams – and everything else – she’s working on a cookbook. I saw the digital proofs, dripping with seasonal Italian tastiness and more like art than something to put on your kitchen shelf.

Before I left I made sure we did a little photo shoot/jam tasting. We tried a few of her wares – everything from peach and melon to citrus marmalades and chutneys, all fruity and mellow, capturing the goods at their peak flavour point – including her secret recipe chili jam.

I used to stick to quince paste when it came to razzing up a cheese plate, but I found two minor miracles in this all-too-brief Italian journey: truffle honey and Aurora’s chili jam. The truffle honey’s insanely pungent personality seeped through the sealed jar and bubble wrap and infused my suitcase. Spread on a little hard, salty cheese it will do things to you. The chili jam was slightly sweet, with a feisty bite, great on this youngish Parmigiano-Reggiano. I got a little fig and almond number from a nearby medieval church gift shop too and luckily nothing erupted at 31,000 feet.

Aurora told me she uses about a third to two-thirds ratio of sugar to fruit, cooks it for only 15 minutes or so, then boils the jars for a full 35 minutes, allowing them to cool overnight in the water. This got me curious about all the crazy sugar-fruit ratios and boiling times in existence. Next post: my canning/preserving books (vintage and new) and what they say about how long to boil, how to sterilize, what ratio of ingredients should be etc. Not glamorous, but so much fun stuff for budding jam nerds like moi.

Also: my humble canning forays were mentioned in the Montreal Gazette, in a story by local food critic Sarah Musgrave about peeps doing foodie things DIY-style. Read it here.