For the past five years, I’ve spent my late-summer birthday making plum jam. Parties are fun. Cake is good. But all I want is the quiet pleasure of standing over the stove, stirring and staring as the violet fruit transforms from thin, bursting bubbles to slow lava pops.
And at the end, I get the best jam that I can’t buy in any store. I keep big plum chunks in a base just a little less runny than honey. It swirls beautifully into yogurt or oatmeal and, of course, it’s awesome on toast. It drips into the crags of rustic loaves, soaks a little into milk bread. It gives you the PB&J of your dreams. Spooned over ricotta on brioche? You’re living the L.A. dream of brunching at Sqirl — without waiting in line — feeling like maybe you can be as cool as chef Jessica Koslow.
To achieve this plum jam nirvana, start with good fruit. It doesn’t have to be precious stuff — save that for eating fresh — but find fragrant plums and pluots. That’s obvious. This next trick, less so. Start by cooking down the fruit before adding the sugar. It intensifies the fruit’s flavor and prevents the sugar from overcooking into unwelcome burnt bitterness. Once the sugar goes in, it liquefies into the plums’ juices and caramelizes just enough to deepen the plummy-ness while keeping the flavor fresh.
While you can jar the jam to make it shelf-stable, it’s easier to keep it in the fridge. Once chilled, it’s best within a few weeks, but it’ll definitely be gone by then.
