Freezing Jalapenos

We had more jalapenos hanging from our poor little plant than we knew what to do with.  And waay out back we have more extra hot peppers than we can truly handle (although the second round of them haven’t ripened yet).  So after some Googling and researching, I learned today that freezing hot peppers does not reduce their heat, and is actually a really great way to store our excess peppers.

The process was the same for both the extra hot and the regular peppers–after getting washed and patted dry, I sliced them open and cleaned out the seeds using my favorite pepper tool:  the grapefruit spoon.  For the extra hot peppers I was careful to remove all of the pith and all of the seeds.  With the jalapenos I wasn’t as picky.

aAfter that, I sliced and diced until all we had left was a finely diced pepper pile.  I used a mug to hold the plastic freezer baggie open while I loaded it up, which proved to be incredibly helpful.

All in all, the processing and packing took maybe a half hour.  There are still more peppers on both plants that aren’t quite ready yet, so I’m hoping that if they do make it to maturity we’ll be able to repeat the process and just add on to these already frozen baggies.  I’m excited to have “fresh” hot peppers to spice up our mid winter chilies and soups!

 

 

 

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Shuck this!

I like to think that I’m well-educated and mindful enough to know how long something takes to make and how much it will make.  So when I took that picture of the beautiful basket of peas last night, I thought to myself, “we’ll shuck these bad boys while JGL watches Lost, it’ll take no time at all, and then we’ll have peas for tomorrow and peas to freeze!”

Exactly halfway through the epic and long series ender of Lost later, I was just finishing the shucking, and hadn’t even made my way to freezing; there was also exactly one pound of peas sitting in front of me.  One freaking pound.

Let me preface this story with the fact that I don’t remember fresh peas being served at meals when I was growing up in MA.  We would pick big paper grocery bags full of them, and promptly sit some where and eat the whole bag.  Unless I’m remembering completely wrong here (and I’m sure my mother will correct me if I’m wrong (;), peas were more like natures candy grab bag, and less of something to save for later. 

So last night once everything was in the freezer for the first round of freezing was completed (today I’ll be bagging the pound up, marking, and putting it away for later), I plopped down on the couch, literally with green thumbs in tow, and sighed.  JGL (at the commercial break) leaned over and say, “I’m sorry–I know that was a lot of work for not a lot of peas.”

And let me tell you, it was–we planted them back in March, made trellises once, and now twice, diligently put up a fence to keep critters out, and spent an hour of so last night lifting the vines on to the new trellises, picking all the way.  It’s taken three months and several long hours to get a pound of peas.  Peas that if we go up to our neighborhood big box grocery store will be 98 cents a pound, frozen (I know this because if the nature’s candy binge picture I painted for you above didn’t spell it out, I EAT PEAS WITH EVERYTHING).

I looked at him, smiled and sighed again and said, “I’m not.”

I like to think I’m well-educated and mindful enough to know long something takes to make.  I obviously have a lot more learning to do.