Don't try this at home
I hope you’re not staring at your screen and thinking: “What the heck … canned dicks?!”
Well no, although interestingly, when I lifted the jar out of the pressure canner they were all erect and swollen, pressed up against the glass – and when my laughing fit subsided enough for me to break the jar’s vacuum seal by popping the lid open, they instantly deflated and became the flaccid little wieners you see here. Because that’s what they are: wieners.
Just before I returned home in mid-October I did a bit of last-minute shopping for the winter and had this sudden craving for pea soup with wieners, so I bought two packages. Fast forward to a couple of days ago, when the moose meat I’d brought in on that trip from our freezer in the closest village had thawed out to the point where it needed to be canned.
We didn’t shoot a moose this year – because of my absence, there is still enough meat left from last year to tide us over to next hunting season. Since we shot the moose last year just a few days before C. dropped me off in Skagway to make my way down to Smithers and become a bear mom we didn’t have the time to do any canning. All the meat went into the freezer in the village and this week I finally wanted to do some canning.
As luck would have it, the last batch of meat was just enough for a couple of jars. Trying to make the last round of canning more efficient, I thought I’d give canning wieners a try. I figured it might be a good way to keep some on hand over the summer since our root cellar doesn’t stay at fridge temperature. Given the outcome of this little experiment, however, I don’t see home canned wieners in our future.