Canning fail: beer jelly

The Ball Blue Book has included a recipe for chablis wine jelly for a few editions now. I had never used it, for a couple of reasons. One, because soft spreads are a breakfast food for me, and even if I had leftover wine in the house (not sure exactly what the phrase means, "leftover wine"; I've never come across such an animal, myself), I think I'd rather use it in a savory dish, not in a jelly. And two, because home canning for me is more of an economic strategy than a hobby. I tend to make jams and preserves not for fun, but for saving money over supermarket prices. (Also: selfish. I don't like to give away my home-canned foods because I hate losing jars!)

But then I saw an article late last year in Philly Beer Scene magazine about a line of jellies made from craft beers and ales. I looked at some local imperial stout I had picked up cheap a few days before and stowed in the fridge. And I put two and two together and figured I'd get four half-pints of a savory jelly to serve with cheese and crackers or take to a holiday party. Unfortunately, the answer I got to two plus two was "six":

Jars this gnarly don't deserve a non-gnarly photo

Beer, unlike chablis wine, is carbonated. Heating beer in sugar-water leads to a release of the carbonation. Placing that mess in jars and then boiling them in a water-bath canner leads to even more release of the carbonation. I've taken a bad picture there for your protection, but the recipe that was supposed to yield 4 half-pints of beer jelly instead gave me 5 half-pints and 2 quarter-pints of foamy mess and a water-bath canner full of sugar-beer that made my house smell like a brewery. Lordy, I haven't had jars turn out that bad since my early canning days, when I would over-fill quart jars with applesauce and lose entire canner loads to failed seals.

The jars have been kicking around on a low, open shelf since November 2011 because I don't have the heart to offer the product to guests or the pride to take them to a party. Yes, that's a light coating of dust on the lids. I'm just surprised that the goop on the outside -- which I've tried several times to wipe off -- hasn't attracted ants.

Or maybe I'm not too surprised after all.

I know what I did wrong: I should have skimmed off the foam like mad. I should have added the beer after turning off the flame. Better yet, I should have opened up the stout the day before, decanted it in another container, and let it go flat before using. The Ball Blue Book includes a recipe for champagne jelly as well, and I should have relied more on that method than on my lousy instincts.

Haven't yet decided if I'll try again, though -- or if I'll put my next few bottles of imperial stout to their more intended use, and keep home canning for pantry purposes, not for hobby purposes.