Apricot Jam

I have foresworn commercial jam. Call me a jam snob (and, while you are at it, an up and coming chocolate snob). I like my mother's jam. She makes good apricot jam, as well as the best milk tart and lemon meringue pie.

I find commercial jams too sweet - including marmalade. How can marmalade be too sweet? That's what I ask. The joy of marmalade is in its tartness. That's why it is marmalade. Not so?

Case in point, I now put honey on my toast.

So when Anna asked me if I wanted apricot jam for my toast, I declined. My ears picked up when Father P, our Benedictine host, extolled the virtues of the monks' homemade jam, "and the apricots are picked in Lillooet. They are the real things with flavour."

My eyes zeroed in on the jam. I changed my mind. I would have apricot jam on my toast after all.

My teeth hadn't finished biting off a piece of the toast and I was already headed for apricot heaven. Apricot jam, fig jam and marmalade are my favourite jams. And this had to be the very best apricot jam I have ever tasted (sorry, Mom). It really is true. When cooking or baking, start with fresh quality ingredients. It makes all the difference.

I reached for a second piece of toast. I salivated while I buttered my toast. With reverence, I spread the apricot jam covering every bit of my toast.

Don't even talk to me; I want to savour the flavour in every bite.