Over twenty-five years ago now, a church garden committee planted crabapple trees near the entrance to the church office. At the time, it was simply a gardening decision. I could never have imagined that those trees would set me on such a winding, wonderfully unexpected path. It feels, sometimes, as though Mother Nature quietly placed the first stone beneath my feet and simply waited to see where I would go. From harvest to stillroom, from blossom to jar, I have learned to follow that path ever since — and I am still very happily walking it today.
I remember though looking at those little crabapples we were picking then and wondering what we were getting ourselves into…
I had no idea that those few baskets of tart Dolgo Crabapple (Malus ‘Dolgo’) would open the door to a world of preserving that would become such an important part of my life.
There was something magical, cyclical and eternal about the whole process. Gathering the fruit. Washing it. Cooking it down. Straining. Cooking it again. Waiting. Wondering whether it would actually set. And then, finally, seeing those little jars of ruby jelly lined up on the counter, hearing their sealing “pops” throughout the evening.
I was hooked.
But what surprised me most was how much there was still to discover.
Preserving became more than simply learning how to make jam or jelly. It became a way of looking at ingredients differently. What’s in season? What’s growing, and what is abundant? What might otherwise be overlooked? And what happens when you put two unexpected things together?
A fruit becomes a brilliant jam. Flowers become delicate and fragrant jellies. Vegetables find their way into chutneys and relishes. A handful of herbs becomes a jar of something that can transform an ordinary meal.
Somewhere along the way, my kitchen became my stillroom. As the preserves grew, so did the need for a space of their own, and as a family, we built one. Now my stillroom is a real room where I can explore, experiment, distil ideas and flavours, and see what happens when familiar ingredients are given a little room to become something unexpected.
And still, all these years later, I find myself right back where it all began — in my kitchen, in my stillroom, looking at what the garden and the seasons have given me and wondering what I can make of it.
That first batch of jelly opened a door I didn’t know was there. I discovered that preserving wasn’t simply about putting fruit into jars. It was about paying attention. About making use of what was abundant, finding possibilities in what might otherwise be overlooked, and turning something fleeting into something we could enjoy long after the season had passed.
Twenty-five years later, that curiosity is still at the heart of what I do. There is always another fruit, another flower, another combination that makes me ask, What if?
There was never really a grand plan. There were simply a few crabapple trees, followed by a discovery, and then another. Somehow, that winding path led me here — and I’m still happily following it. And sharing it with you.
If you’re new to Bobbie’s Home Preserves, you can read the original story of how those crabapple trees started it all here.
And if you’d like to follow along as the seasons unfold, the garden grows and the stillroom gets busy, you can join my monthly newsletter on Substack.
I’d love to have you along for the journey.
From the Stillroom
This month’s harvest is becoming…
Crabapple Jelly — Discover the Crabapple Jelly
Spiced Plum Preserves — Discover the Spiced Plum Preserves
And if you’d like to see what else is currently being made in the stillroom:
Explore Bobbie’s Home Preserves
If you enjoyed wandering through the garden with me, you might enjoy the rest of the stories from my stillroom. I write about harvesting and preserving, the changing seasons and all the little things that make this work so satisfying.
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