This June, I picked several pounds of mulberries with the purpose of making a batch of mulberry mead. After I cleaned the berries, I placed them in my freezer, with the intention of waiting a couple weeks until I get home from vacation to start the batch. That was the intention. Let's look at what has happened to thwart my efforts.
Memorial Day Weekend: My wife and I leave town for a funeral. We are gone almost the entire week. When we get back, we find that our AC has stopped working.
No AC, week 2: While doing laundry, I notice black splotches on parts of my basement wall. LOTS of black splotches. Humid air condensed on the walls, allowing nifty mold to grow!
June, week 3: Berry pickin' time! After I get all the berries picked and cleaned, I've got about 6 cups of berries. I put them in the deep freeze for safe keeping.
End of June: A month and 1200 dollars later, we get our AC back.
End of July: We leave on vacation.
August, week 1: My loving mother takes it upon herself to bring an inspector into our house WITHOUT OUR KNOWLEDGE. The verdict? Penicillin mold. A fairly harmless mold, unless you happen to be allergic. Guess what. My sister points out that this is why Mom doesn't have a key to her house.
August, week 2: Home again. I start removing everything from the basement. Can't start the mead because I don't want it to get contaminated with mold.
September 14: The remains of Hurricane Ike decimates the power grid of Ohio. 2 million people are without power. My mulberries are still in the freezer.
September 20: After waiting nearly a WEEK for power to be restored, I open my deep freeze. Temperature is well above freezing. I pull the berries out and take them upstairs. After checking to make sure they aren't fuzzy or rancid, I toss them in my pot, add some campden, pectin enzyme, and a couple cups of hot tap water. I take the pot upstairs, far, FAR away from my moldy basement. I also buy 5 lbs of honey from the local vendor.
September 21: Throw in 1116 yeast and about 1 lb of honey, wait.
I am happy to report that the yeast is bubbling away happily. I get to move the juice into a carboy Saturday. Still don't have power yet, apparently I'm one of the lucky people stuck in an "individual pocket."
Memorial Day Weekend: My wife and I leave town for a funeral. We are gone almost the entire week. When we get back, we find that our AC has stopped working.
No AC, week 2: While doing laundry, I notice black splotches on parts of my basement wall. LOTS of black splotches. Humid air condensed on the walls, allowing nifty mold to grow!
June, week 3: Berry pickin' time! After I get all the berries picked and cleaned, I've got about 6 cups of berries. I put them in the deep freeze for safe keeping.
End of June: A month and 1200 dollars later, we get our AC back.
End of July: We leave on vacation.
August, week 1: My loving mother takes it upon herself to bring an inspector into our house WITHOUT OUR KNOWLEDGE. The verdict? Penicillin mold. A fairly harmless mold, unless you happen to be allergic. Guess what. My sister points out that this is why Mom doesn't have a key to her house.
August, week 2: Home again. I start removing everything from the basement. Can't start the mead because I don't want it to get contaminated with mold.
September 14: The remains of Hurricane Ike decimates the power grid of Ohio. 2 million people are without power. My mulberries are still in the freezer.
September 20: After waiting nearly a WEEK for power to be restored, I open my deep freeze. Temperature is well above freezing. I pull the berries out and take them upstairs. After checking to make sure they aren't fuzzy or rancid, I toss them in my pot, add some campden, pectin enzyme, and a couple cups of hot tap water. I take the pot upstairs, far, FAR away from my moldy basement. I also buy 5 lbs of honey from the local vendor.
September 21: Throw in 1116 yeast and about 1 lb of honey, wait.
I am happy to report that the yeast is bubbling away happily. I get to move the juice into a carboy Saturday. Still don't have power yet, apparently I'm one of the lucky people stuck in an "individual pocket."