Rat Fink, Rat Fink. What a donkey. But for good or ill, it’s what makes RtB RtB. I wasn’t joking about the “at random” part of the slogan up there, Jim. Anyway…
If you are a fan of conserves/jams, you haven’t lived till you’ve tried this. It trumps all the homemade jams I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve taken home some great stuff from private kitchens over the decades. I’m not kidding; this beats all.
On last weekend’s bimonthly trip to Earth Fare, I discovered some jars of St. Dalfour on the shelf. Having never tried it (indeed, I never knew it existed), but noticing that there was no cane sugar added, I picked up two jars: blackberry and apricot. I also noticed it’s imported from France, which made me feel all foofy & such.
Fiends, I’m here to tell you that there are whole blackberries and huge chunks of apricot in that stuff. And the aroma, oh my. Of course, the proof is in the tasting, and it was divine. Just the right amount of tartness, and most importantly, not cloying, which many jams can be. Of course, it’s not a treat for every day, but…wait, scratch that. I’ve had it every day since I bought it. haha
This morning, I went to Amazon and bought the black cherry and strawberry varieties. My excitement is visceral.
Are you a jammer? I know several in my family who are not (sister Mavis, son Seamus, others), but I’ve been hooked since childhood, when Dad would bring home Hostess powdered donuts, and we’d make an extra-special dessert by putting Welch’s grape jelly on them. To this day, I won’t eat a Hostess powdered donut without grape jam on it. Ah, the curse of connecting food with emotions…story of my life. (But that’s another long, serious, existential post.)
Well look at the clock, wouldya. Five-ten a.m. and I’ve been up since 3, thinking about the rehearsal schedule starting today. Bring it. Well actually, bring it after breakfast, which, of course, will include a slice of toast with St. Dalfour on it.