I wish I could tell you a nostalgic story about dehydrating like the ones you read … the kind that reminisce about baking cookies with Grandmother, but I can’t.
I do have wonderful memories of watching my grandmother move busily around her 10-foot-ceilinged kitchen.
I remember watching as she fried doughnuts; sticking the holes together with toothpicks and making funny doughnut-men from them. One hole for the head, 3 for the body and sticking out from the sides, 4 sets of 2 to roughly resemble arms and legs.
I remember crying when I had to share a doughnut-man with my younger brother, and munching it while swinging my legs happily at the table underneath the kitchen window.
The window looked out on the busy Main Street, and in it hung white curtains splashed with nickel-sized polka dots. Grammie had poka dotted Fire King coffee mugs to match.
While these are all wonderful things to recall, memories of dehydrating food I do not have. As far as I know I am the first in my family to do it.
Do you know what the most amazing thing about dehydrating food is? It’s how small the pieces shrink!
I can fit enough dried apples to make a deep-dish apple pie into a quart sized mason jar…
7 red peppers pack nicely into a cup…
A whole head of celery fills one half-cup jar. So cool!
Of the memories my grandchildren will have of me, I hope numbered among them will be a nice collection called, Dehydrating with Grandma.This will include cutting fruit and arranging it on dehydrator trays.
Watching as veggies mystically shrink to a tiny portion of their original selves.Tapping dried food on the counter to hear the click that signals it’s ready to store.
And of course, my favourite…
Sneaking pieces of sweet apple or tart cranberry from the dehydrator to taste.