There are so many things that our great-grandparents knew how to do that we as a culture no longer remember. Things like how to can soup, bake bread, craft a poultice, split firewood, butcher a hen, or make kraut (off the top of my head).

Somewhere along the way, we traded our collective domestic wisdom for the lure of convenience. And what a loss that truly was! To our families, our health, our budgets, and the earth.

I say it’s time to bring that knowledge back.

One person, one family, one step-outside-of-your-comfort-zone at a time, let’s start to remember. We can regain what was lost, and take back some of the simple skills that have been commoditized in our modern world.

When I posted a photo on Instagram and Facebook last week of a batch of cabbage kraut in the making, I didn’t anticipate such a flurry of earnest questions regarding procedure, safety, equipment, and more:

“Do you have any advice for someone new to fermenting? I am honestly so terrified of doing it ‘wrong’ and making my family sick…growing up in the era of all-bacteria-in-food-is-potentially-deadly. Natural mold=bad. Bubbly ferments=good. Hard to wrap my head around how it all works and when good ferments can lead to poison for our bodies…and how to know a bad ferment. […] I need to get over this hurdle of fear!”

“Inspired to finally try this, as i keep feeling the tug of ‘what if it doesn’t turn out?’ holding me back.”

“I’ve been wishing I had the bravery to try to make my own recently… but I get scared about not knowing if it’s spoiled on the counter while it’s curing… and do I need those glass weights or special water or other gear?”

The questions above really to to the heart of the matter, don’t they? Without learning these skills from our ancestors, they became cloaked in mystery, anxiety, and fear–and we fret that if we do it wrong we’re sure to kill someone.

Let me assuage your fears.

Sandor Katz, my live fermentation hero (whose books I reference below), said at a recent talk that he’s never heard of anyone dying–ever–from fermented foods. Yes, he’s made bad ferments that he’s spat out before, but no, he’s never gotten sick, nor has anyone he knows. I’m going to back him up here.

Because it’s all about the science.

Lactofermentation (or live-fermentation) uses the naturally occurring good bacteria (Lactobacillus) found in raw veggies to preserve. The bad bacteria (the kind that could make you sick and/or poison your peeps) can’t handle the salt, and so are killed in the kraut-making process.

This is why you won’t give anyone food poisoning with your ferment. Because it’s, well, fermented.

In short, it works like this: We salt our veggies which kills the bad bacteria; then the good bacteria have a party to celebrate. Bubbles form in your ferment, the brine rises up and out of your jar, and everyone is happy. (Sour, but happy.) It’s nearly fool-proof.

Best of all, it doesn’t take any special equipment. You don’t need weights and silicone lids; pickle crocks or razor-sharp mandolines. While in years past I’ve used all of these gadgets and more, you really don’t need them, and I’ve come full-circle, back to the basics. Knife, jar, plate.

And I realized this week that after  nearly 10 years of blogging and kraut-making, I have given you a proper sauerkraut tutorial! Forgive me.

So I made another batch, photographing and documenting every step of the way. Think of me as your virtual, younger than I should be great-grandmother. Or something. And with a bit of courage and knife work from you, you can join me here in the simple, sustainable, health-giving act of making your own sauerkraut.

Ready? Let’s get our kraut on.

Lacto-fermented Sauerkraut Tutorial & Recipe

Ingredients

• 1 cabbage, approximately 2 lbs.
• 1 tbsp good quality sea salt

Supplies

• Sharp knife
• Mixing bowl
• Screw-top mason jar with a tight fitting lid
• plate or bowl with an adequate diameter to hold your jar

Instructions

1. Peel the shabby, outer leaves off of your cabbage and compost them.

2. Peel off a full-sized, not-so-shabby cabbage leaf. Do not slice, but set aside whole.

3. Cut your cabbage in nearly in half, slicing at an angle just beside the core. Repeat on the other side, creating a wedge with the core in the center. Cut off the edges of the wedge that aren’t core. Don’t fiddle with it too much, just whack off the excess.

Set the core aside for use in a bit.

4. Grab your sharp knife (or, if you prefer, a box grater or electric food processor), and thinly slice your cabbage. My method is to cut the cabbage halves into wedges that are approximately 2″ across, then slice the 2″ chunks as thinly as you wish, as pictured. Continue slicing until your whole cabbage is in thin shreds.

5. Using your box grater, grate the core beginning with the inside, and holding onto the stem. Grate just until where it stops looking appealing, then discard the stem end.

If everything went according to plan, your bowl should look something like this:

Your pile of sliced and grated cabbage may be smaller than mine, as I was working with 3 cabbages instead of just 1, but honestly, do whatever size batch you wish. (When we were recently traveling, I made tiny 1/4 to 1/2 cabbage-sized batches in an empty peanut butter jar, just big enough to fit in the cooler.)

6. Now it’s time for the magic. Add approximately 1 tbsp. of high quality sea salt for every 2 lbs. of cabbage you used. (An average smallish/medium cabbage normally runs around that size.) Sprinkle the salt over the grated and sliced cabbage, and stir to combine with your hands. Give it a little massage to work some salt into the cabbage. Work it for just a minute or two, until thoroughly combined.

7. (And this is the hard one…) Walk away.

Really. Walk away. You can go and grab your grandma’s kraut pounder (like the one pictured above), and expend 1,200 calories beating those vegetables into juicy submission, or you could just… walk away. I suggest the latter, and only pulled out my kraut pounder to tell you you don’t need one.

Come back in 10 to 20 minutes, and see what you’ve got.

8. Rewash your hands, and head back to your kraut bowl. If the salt has already started working on the cabbage, the veggies will have a slightly translucent appearance, and feel a bit wet. That’s a good sign! Use your hands to gently massage the kraut, further softening the vegetable and breaking down the cell walls. Do this for as long as you want (1 minute, 5 minutes, it honestly doesn’t matter), then walk away again, giving it another 5 to 15 minutes to continue to release its juices and soften.

When you return, your cabbage should have started to release even more liquid. Using clean hands, stir it well, then grab a handful and give it a squeeze. If your cabbage was really fresh, you’ll probably have brine running down your elbows.

If your cabbage wasn’t as fresh and juicy, repeat step 8 one or two more times.

9. Taste the brine. It should be nice and salty, but not like licking a salt lamp. If you still have very little brine and tastes like cabbagy water with little or no salty flavor, add more salt. If it’s unpleasantly salty and has you running for the sink to rinse your tongue, you can add 1/2 c of water, stir, and taste again.

10. Let’s review. You’ve chopped up your cabbage, given it a relaxing salt massage, and now you’re swimming in soft, briney cabbage. Great! Now it’s time to pack it in a jar for fermenting.

Most average sized cabbages will make around a quart of kraut, I made a gallon using 3 large cabbages. Using your (clean) hands, a widemouth canning jar, and canning funnel (if you have one), place a couple of handfuls of cabbage in the jar. if your hands fit in jar, make a fist and press the kraut firmly in, using your knuckles. (If your hand doesn’t fit, use a sturdy spoon to mush it in there as best as you can.)

11. Keep filling and pressing, filling and pressing, until the jar is full to the shoulders or and your cabbage is all used up. At first you won’t see any brine at all, but as you add more layers and press in the veggies, the brine will begin to release. By the time you’ve loaded your jar, you should be left with a bowl with brine pooled in the bottom. Pour this over the cabbage now.

Your jar should look something like this: cabbage firmly packed at the bottom, topped with juicy brine. (If you don’t have this much brine, taste again to make sure it’s plenty salty and add more salt if needed stir it a bit with a fork, press again, and/or wait another 20 minutes or so. It will release more. I promise!)

12. Remember that reserved cabbage leaf? Go and get it. Press the leaf into the top of the jar, holding your cabbage beneath the brine, and preventing oxygen from getting to your kraut and making it taste less amazing. Tuck the leaf around the edges, pushing until it stays beneath the brine as well. (Anything above the brine can develop mold, but it will not effect the kraut beneath the brine. Just remove and discard if this happens and all will be well. Really! Because: science.)

Use your fingers to swipe around the neck of the jar to remove any cabbage bits you may have missed.

13. Add additional brine if needed to fill your jar right to the neck, so that it looks something like the picture below (adding approximately 1/2 cup of water to 1 tsp of salt).

14. Tightly lid your jar with a regular canning jar lid, and set on a rimmed plate or bowl in a cool, out-of-the-way corner of your kitchen, out of direct sunlight.

After 1 to 3 days, your brine will rise up and out of the jar (thus the plate or bowl)!

Edited to clarify: as long as you are “burping” your jar after day 3, and daily going forward, the jar should not build up enough pressure to break. A friend who makes kraut professionally told me that she has never had a jar break using this method, and I concur. Though you’re tightly sealing it, it’s not pressure-canner tight, so a drizzle of brine will be able to seep up and out by the pressure generated from fermentation. For this reason, I don’t recommend fermenting in latch lid jars, as they seal up too tightly and don’t let any air escape, causing a breakage risk.

If you’re concerned about breakage, simply “burp” your jar daily from the start by loosening, then retightening the lid.

Pour off any liquid that pools on the plate, and wipe down the jar if desired.

15. After four or five days, it’s time for a taste! Using clean hands, remove the lid and cabbage leaf, and set aside on a clean plate. Scoop out a bite of kraut on a fork, and taste. It should be just beginning to taste sour, and the cabbage will be softer than when you jarred it up.

Unless your kitchen is quite warm, your kraut won’t be ready for a few more days, but I think daily tasting to get a feel for how it changes it’s a great habit to get into. Consider it kraut-bonding.

After each taste test, press the kraut back under the brine with clean hands, and top with your cabbage leaf. Double check that everything is below the bring before twisting on the lid.

16. When you are pleased with the taste (normally after 1 to 2 weeks, depending on your flavor preference and the temperature of your kitchen), pop it into the fridge. You can remove the cabbage leaf and compost it at this stage, then push the kraut beneath the brine. Serve with every meal, and be sure to push the kraut back under the brine after each serving.

Look at you, making your own kraut!

Your great grandma would be proud.

P.S. There are a thousand ways you can embellish your next batch of kraut once you’ve mastered making a basic batch. Add a some caraway seeds, a teaspoon of dill, or some thinly sliced hot peppers. Throw in sesame seeds and kelp, or an assortment of other grated veggies.

The sky’s the limit, and–aside from adding salt and keeping the veggies beneath the brine–there are no rules.

 

P.P.S. Want a book on the subject? Here are a few of my faves. Buy them at your local bookshop! (If you choose to buy online, some afflinks are below.)

Wild Fermentation, by Sandor Katz

The Art of Fermentation, by Sandor Katz

Fermented Vegetables, by Kirsten Shockey and Christopher Shockey

Firey Ferments, by Kirsten Shockey and Christopher Shockey

 

 

 

I posted a photo of our kraut-making process on Instagram this week, and promised to share a simple method for making homemade kraut, suitable for beginners.

While there are countless ways to do this age-old process (and an abundance of veggies you may add to the mix), I’ve kept it intentionally simple to get you started on your fermentation journey with ease.

I’ve extolled the virtues of live-fermented foods many, many times on the blog, so we’ll let the archives do the talking. This post in particular lays out the basics of why eating a variety of probiotic foods daily is important, plus tips for getting your kids in on it without drama, if kraut is a new taste for them.

Making your own fermented veggies is easier than you ever imagined.

All you need is cabbage and salt; a knife and a mason jar. You can get fancier than that, of course, but these are the basics.

To put it simply, making kraut is just slicing, salting, tasting, jarring, and waiting. I’ll break it down into more details below, but that’s honestly all we’re going to do! Don’t be overwhelmed by the number of steps. It’s seriously a 20 minute job.

So let’s get on with it, shall we? The recipe your gut has been waiting for!

A few afflinks follow below. I encourage you to seek these products out locally before buying online. Yay, local economy!

Easy, Homemade Probiotic Sauerkraut Recipe

Make your kraut in any amount you’d like. I suggest beginning with a quart of kraut, or a scant 2 lbs of cabbage.

While cabbage weights and sizes vary widely, here’s a general rule: a large cabbage will be somewhere in the 2-3 pound ballpark, while a small cabbage will weigh in around 1/2 pound.

1. Prep your work station.

If your kitchen looks like mine (meaning: well-loved and lived-in and not exactly sanitary), give your work surface a washing or wipe down before you begin. We’re encouraging bacteria in this jar–let’s make sure it’s the good kind.

Gather your supplies: a cabbage or two, some unrefined sea salt, a knife (or mandolin or food processor), and a mason jar.

2. Thinly slice your cabbage.

I used a mandolin for the project pictured, but I often cheat and use a food processor. A chef’s knife works as well, though expect slightly larger pieces of cabbage in your kraut. Each method results in a different texture of finished kraut, so experiment with a few batches to find your favorite method.

Note: Reserve a single large, relatively intact cabbage leaf. We’ll use it later to keep your sliced cabbage below the top of your brine.

Protip: if you, like me, are terrified of your mandolin because you’re afraid you’ll cut your fingertips off, don’t despair! We recently purchase a pair of kevlar gloves for just this purpose, and it’s honestly the best thing ever. No more fiddling with the awkward hand guard, and no more fear of cutting my hand off. Kudos to Alton Brown for the brilliant idea.

3. Add salt.

Transfer your grated or sliced cabbage to a bowl, and add 1 generous tsp of salt for each pound of cabbage.

Gently massage your kraut for 4 to 5 minutes, until it begins to release brine.

If there is one step that I think is important–and often overlooked–it is this one. Massaging the kraut works in the salt, begins to break down the cell walls, and releases the brine. A healthy amount of brine is vital for a good batch of kraut! Once upon a time I did this job with a kraut pounder, but it was loud, clumsy, and not nearly as zen (or effective) as the massaging technique. 

Massage until the cabbage becomes soft and liquid begins to pool in the bottom of your bowl. Give a handful a squeeze. You should see liquid dripping into the bowl. Now we’re getting somewhere.

4. Adjust the salt.

Taste-test a pinch of cabbage. It should be salty, but not uncomfortably so. Think more salty than you’d want to eat a whole serving of, but just barely. The salt is critical in keeping your cabbage from spoiling, but too salty and your finished kraut will be unpalatable (we’ll address that below). Err on the side of a pinch too much rather than a pinch too little at the start. Stir in extra salt a pinch (or for a large batch, a 1/2 teaspoonful) at a time until it tastes pleasantly salty.

5. Jar it up.

It’s time to jar your kraut! Using a canning funnel if you have one, fill an appropriately sized wide-mouth canning jar with cabbage. Fill the jar 2/3 full, then press down using your fist or a kraut pounder. Repeat this layering technique until your jar is nearly full and looking really juicy.

When your jar approximately as full as mine shown above, use your fist to press firmly one more time to submerge all the sliced cabbage you can, well below the brine line. This will insure proper fermentation and prevent spoilage during the next few days.

Remember that cabbage leaf that you reserved? After compressing your kraut, gently tuck it inside the top of your jar, using it to hold the grated cabbage below the brine. Tuck in all the bits that stick up (like those show above) using your fingers until everything is held beneath the level of the brine.

6. Top with a weight (optional).

If you have a kraut weight (mine is this type from Masontops), place it in your jar on top of the submerged cabbage leaf. If you don’t have one, you can use a clean flat stone, a tiny 1/4 pint jar tucked inside the neck of your larger jar, or use nothing at all. Just be sure to push as much cabbage as possible beneath the brine level. Anything above this level will spoil and need to be discarded.

Protip: Don’t freak out if some of your cabbage leaf is peeking above the brine. You’ll be discarding it anyway, not eating it, so it’s not the end of the world if a bit of it is exposed. A bit of funky leaf won’t ruin the jar.

7. Lid your jars.

Lid your jar with whatever lid type you have on hand. I have (and love) a couple of silicone Pickle Pipe lids. But I usually have more batches of kraut going than I have fancy lids for, so my solution is to simply lid with a one-piece plastic lid (if I have it) or a regular canning jar lid. I choose the one-piece when possible because, well, they tend to leak, and when you’re making kraut that’s a good thing.

Whether you use use a one-piece or two-piece lid, be sure you don’t crank it on too tightly. Your kraut will produce CO2 and needs to vent a bit. Nobody wants exploding kraut jars in their kitchen. 

Protip: If you love making kraut, invest in a set of vented silicone lids. (Our local hardware store sells them, so check locally before you buy online!) They’re worth their weight in gold. I find my kraut is more foolproof and tastes a bit better when I use them.

8. And now, we wait.

Set your jar on a plate in a cool, out-of-the-way place. Since our kitchen is often warm, I normally ferment in the corner of our sewing/dining room! Place them wherever works for you, where you won’t forget about them.

Test your kraut on day three and every other day after that until you are pleased with the flavor. To test, remove the weight and cabbage leaf (using clean hands) then sneak a sample out from below your brine level. Press the kraut back down, and replace the leaf, weight, and lid.

Protip: if your brine level was too close to the top of the jar, it might overflow. Always keep your kraut on a plate to catch any spills! If your kraut gets really lively and bubbly and overflows, then calms down, you may need to press the cabbage back under the liquid or even add a dash of salted water to the top to replace the lost brine. I rarely need to do this if I have packed the kraut down well in step 5.

Sometime between 4 days and 4 weeks, your kraut will be ready to eat! I normally like mine best after 8 to 10 days in summer, 2 to 3 weeks in winter.

Remove the cabbage leaf and the weight, and wipe the rim of your jar. Lid with a one- or two-piece mason jar lid and transfer to the refrigerator. The cold storage will slow the fermentation down to a crawl, and hold your kraut at this perfect, delectable level for months.

Serve with savory meals daily, and celebrate your happy gut flora and better health!

Note: if you finished kraut is too salty, you can pour off a bit of the brine and replace it with water. Fluff the kraut a bit with a fork, then press back down into the jar. Let it sit in the refrigerator for 2 days to allow the salt in the cabbage to reduce. Taste and repeat if needed.

I learned much of what I know from Sandor Katz (Author of several books including my go-to, Wild Fermentation). I’m not crazy about the fermentation recipes in Nourishing Traditions as most of them contain added whey, which makes for slimy (in my experience) ferments and seems unnecessary.  

Go forth and ferment all the things!

P.S. Let me know if you’d like a recipe for live-fermented dilly beans, garlic dill pickles, or foraged ferments, too!

We've been enjoying probiotic ginger bug sodas at our house for years. Indeed, at the autumn Herbal Retreat the ginger bug soda I brought was the first beverage gone during the weekend! I love ginger bug drinks because they are loaded with good bacteria, naturally carbonated, subtly sweet, and easy to make.

I have been meaning to share a tutorial with you for ages but didn't get around to it until now. (I even took these photos years ago, as Lupine's size will attest.) 

Ginger bug is one of the easiest home ferments to try. The starter calls for just three ingredients (water, sugar, and ginger) and then the final sodas can be crafter from your favorite herbal teas.

It's a simple way to get some good bacteria into your diet! Ready to give it a try? Here's how.

Ginger Bug How-To

There are two steps to making a ginger bug. Like sourdough, you first create a starter. The starter is quite gingery and not a beverage in it's own right, but what you use to carbonate a sweetened tea that becomes your soda.

It's important to use actual sugar (not maple, honey, or coconut sugar) for this recipe. Like with homemade kombucha, the probiotics in the ginger bug are going to eat most of the sugar (not you), and to be a strong culture they need actual sugar. I use organic unbleached cane sugar. 

First we'll make the starter (it takes about a week to get going). Then we'll make our drink. 

Step 1: Ginger Bug Starter 

• 3 cups water
• 2 tbsp grated ginger root (with the peel) and additional ginger for feeding starter
• 2 tbsp organic sugar and additional sugar for feeding starter

Combine all ingredients above in a quart-sized mason jar and loosely cover. (Use a cloth fastened with a rubberband or a canning jar lid with the ring only screwed on part way.)

Each day add 1 additional tbsp grated ginger root and 1 tbsp organic sugar. Stir to combine with a wooden spoon, and replace cover.

Continue feeding ginger bug daily. After approximately 5 to 10 days the mixture will begin to carbonate. (In warmer homes this happen more quickly, in cooler homes more slowly.) You'll notice bubbles in the jar, especially when stirring.

Step 2: make your soda

Now the fun begins! Use your ginger bug to create live-fermented sodas. To use, strain off 1/4 cup ginger bug starter and add to a clean quart jar.

Add 3 1/2 cups of cooled, sweetened herbal tea (again using organic sugar). Stir, then tightly lid jar and leave on the counter for 3 – 7 days until carbonated. (I check by pushing down on my lid. When it feels hard from pressure from inside the jar I know it's ready.)

Check your jar daily to prevent your jar from exploding under too much pressure! Burp your jar daily after the first three days to check carbonation level and prevent your jar from exploding.

When soda is fizzy transfer to the refrigerator for an additional 1-4 days to finish fermenting, then enjoy! I often add a generous squeeze of fresh juice before I transfer to the refrigerator.  Keep any remaining ginger bug soda refrigerated until ready to drink.

Maintain your Starter

Each time you remove a 1/4 cup of starter from your ginger bug, replace the liquid with an additional 1/4 cup of fresh water. Continue to feed your starter daily. If you feel you are not using your starter quickly enough you can slow it down by transferring it to the fridge and feeding with 1 tbsp grated ginger root and 1 tbsp organic sugar just once a week. 

When your jar begins to feel overwhelmed with grated ginger strain 1/2 of it out, compost, and continue to feed your starter.

For soda flavors, try anything that would translate to a tasty sweet-sour carbonated drink. I love anything citrus and enjoy adding fresh or frozen berries, a squeeze of fresh juice, or some citrus peels to my soda during the final days of carbonation.

If you're buying tea to use try sweet orange, hibiscus, or green tea. 

 

In the eternal search for the perfect gluten-free/egg-free/cultured dairy-only pancakes, we finally have a winner!

Shooting from the hip one morning last week I improvised pancakes that are fast-tracking their way to "favorite breakfast" status over here. Simple, quick, and downright foolproof, these pancakes lack the rubber hockey puck effect of so many egg-free gluten-free recipes that we've tried.

There is dairy involved (yogurt) but I suspect they would work beautifully with any dairy free milk you like, soured for a few minutes first with apple cider vinegar or lemon juice. (I'll update the post after I give that a try, or leave a comment below if you try that variation yourself! I tested a dairy-free version this morning and it was just as good! I added instructions below. 

Nutritiously speaking these are even better if you plan ahead the night before. Instructions follow for night-before or same-day prep.

Everyday Pancakes (gluten-free, egg-free – dairy-free option below)

Ingredients

1 Tb whole chia seeds or ground flax seeds

2/3 C water

1 C yogurt (see below for dairy-free variation)

3/4 C sorghum flour

1/2 C buckwheat flour

1 tsp coconut sugar (optional)

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp baking soda

Additional water as needed

Same Day Pancakes How-To

Combine chia or flax seed meal and water. Allow to sit for five minutes, then add yogurt.

Whisk in sorghum and buckwheat flour and coconut sugar.

Add additional water as needed if consistency is too thick.

Whisk in baking soda until just combined.

Heat skillet over medium high heat, and butter or oil. Cook and eat!

Overnight Pancakes How-To

12 to 24 hours in advance, combine chia, water, and thinned yogurt.

Whisk in sorghum and buckwheat flour.

Add additional water as needed if consistency is too thick.

Place in a covered dish in the refrigerator until ready to use.

Your mix will likely be quite thick after sitting overnight. Thin with water until desired consistency is reached. Then whisk in coconut sugar and baking soda until just combined.

Heat skillet over medium high heat, and butter or oil. Cook and eat!

Dairy-free Version

To make these dairy free simply replace yogurt with 1/2 can of full-fat coconut milk and 1 1/4 tsp apple cider vinegar. Proceed as above.

Makes approximately ten 4" pancakes.

Variations: if you make your own almond milk, add your leftover pulp to a batch. Or try substituting sorghum flour with cornmeal, millet, almond, or other alternative flours. (This morning we were out of sorghum and added a combination of almond and cornmeal. Delish!)

 

 

 

 

I have a confession to make.

In a previous life (back when I was 20-something vegetarian college student) I remember standing in the beans/canned goods isle at the grocery store. I was comparing a can of organic black beans to a can of conventional. I was at a cross-roads where organic food (a new concept to me) had begun to make sense. But in that moment I backed away from that turning point because of price.

I bought the conventional. 

And I continued to do so for another five years.

Back then (in 1996) it was something like $1.45 for a 15 oz. can of organic canned beans, but conventional would run you only 67 cents. It never occurred to me that if I made black beans from scratch I could have eaten organic for far less than I was paying to eat conventional. 

Wait, wait. That needs a bigger font.

It never occurred to me that if I made black beans from scratch I could have eaten organic for far less than I was paying to eat conventional.

Because in my mind I was simply buying food. Not processed food, just food.

But (surprise!) beans don't grow in cans. It's true. And therefore they were indeed, well, processed.

And anytime you buy processed, convenience, or packaged foods you not only pay more at the store but you also often compromise quality, flavor, and ingredients. 

But let's stick with price.

I checked my local food coop just yesterday and dry, organic black beans are currently $2.69 per pound. (If I picked them up through our buying club I'd pay even less.) So let's do a little math, just for fun. (We're homeschoolers, after all. It's what we do.)

If 1 lb black beans = 2 cups;

and 1 15 oz can black beans (purchased) = 1/2 c dry beans (or 1/4 lb);

then 15 oz of homemade black beans (the equivalent of one can from the grocery store) is – wait for it – 67 cents.

Remember that can of conventional beans I bought back in 1996? Yep. Same price, except now it's 20 years later. And they're organic. 

 

Meaning: you can eat organic home-canned black beans in 2016 for the same price as purchased conventional canned black beans in 1996.  

Let's pause for a moment and let that sink in, shall we? 

.

.

.

I know. Seriously.

And by canning beans at home not only am I ready for spur-of-the-moment meals, but I can control the ingredients. As in: these are packed with cumin and garlic and cooked in bone broth, and my can's aren't lined with BPA.

And this whole project took very little time, yet put nine pints of beans on my pantry shelf. Winning! 

 

Ready to triumph over your pressure canning fears and save buckets of money on your grocery bills? Darn right, you are. 

Here's how. 

 

How to Pressure Can Dry Beans

(red, black, white, kidney, garbanzo, or otherwise)

Makes 9 pints

Recipe can be doubled or halved easily. I shoot for around 3 lbs (9 pints) due to the size of my canner. Adjust as needed for yours.

Ingredients 

3 lb dry beans

3 Tb whey or apple cider vinegar (ACV)

5 quarts homemade bone broth (highly recommended) or purchased broth or water 

9 large or 20 small cloves of garlic, sliced or crushed

4 Tb ground cumin

kombu seaweed, 1 small piece per jar (optional)

Process

Soak beans for 24 hours (or at least overnight) in enough water to cover the top of the beans by at least 3". Stir in whey or ACV.

After 24 hours drain off soaking water and rinse.

Place beans in a large cooking pot with garlic, cumin, and enough bone broth to cover beans by 2". 

Bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer, and cover. Cook for 30 minutes and remove from heat. (Your beans will still be hard and inedible. They are supposed to be. The cooking will be completed in the canner and you won't have mushy beans. 

While the beans cook wash your jars in hot soapy water to pre-warm them. Rinse and drain. Prepare your jar lids according to manufacturer instructions.

Fill your jars. To ensure that I get the right proportions of beans to broth I strain my beans out of the bean cooking broth with a ladle and divide them among my jars as show below. Then I top off with the seasoned bean cooking water, dividing it evenly between all jars. If needed add additional broth or water to fill jars to 1" below rim. Add a small piece of kombu to each jar if using. (1" x 2" is adequate.)

Dip a cotton cloth or paper towel in white vinegar and wipe the rim of your jars. This will ensure a clean rim and a good seal. You can also use water but I'm partial to the vinegar trick.

Top your jars with lids and screw on rings "finger tight". (If you are unsure how tight that is simply tighten the rings fully, the loosen approximately 1/2".

Meanwhile, heat approximately 3" – 4" of water in your pressure canner. (Unlike a water bath canner you don't submerge your jars fully in a pressure canner. The steam pressure does the work this time, not the simmering water.) Add a splash of vinegar if you have hard water to prevent minerals from coating the outside of your jars.

When your jars are lidded and the canner is simmering, it's time to load up! Affix the lid on your canner but don't engage your weight yet.

Watch your canner. When a plume of steam escapes from the valve set a timer for 10 minutes. Keep the heat on under your canner. (Waiting for the steam plume to start in earnest can take an additional 5 – 15 minutes.)

When your timer goes off it's time to apply the pressure! Set your weight to 10 lbs of pressure. Keep the heat on and when the weight begins to rattle set your timer. How long you maintain pressure depends on your jar sizes:

Quarts: 1 and 1/2 hours

Pints: 75 minutes

I always adjust the heat so that my weight is rattling on and off every twenty seconds or so rather than a constant rattle that makes me think my pressure canner might explode at any moment. You don't want long gaps between rattles, but five to thirty seconds is great.)

When your timer goes off turn off the burner. Don't you open the canner! Don't even try. And don't quick-cool the lid by draping a damp towel over it. Just leave it be. Seriously. Otherwise you're fixing for an exploding broth disaster. For. Real. Leave the weight in place as well.

Allow your canner to cool for 45 minutes or more, then remove the weight and carefully remove the lid

Use a jar lifted to carefully remove your jars and place them on a towel to cool. 

If you are using Tattler BPA-free lids, then using a hot pad for each hand, tighten your rings and allow the jars to cool for four hours. If you are using regular lids, simply remove and leave the lids be.

 

After four hours check that your lids have sealed by pushing down on the center of the lid. If the lid is sucked down it is sealed. If not transfer to the fridge and use within a week or transfer to wide-mouth pints filled 3/4 full and freeze.

Allow the sealed jars to sit undisturbed for 12 hours.

After 12 hours remove rings, double-check that the lids are tightly sealed, label and transfer to your pantry.