Why I started Jamatelier

For years, I worked in corporate roles. While I enjoyed the challenge, as the years ticked by I began to want more time for the things I’d always loved: cooking, gardening, being outdoors, and paying attention to the seasons rather than the calendar.

This summer, I took time out and left my job. Without the constant momentum of work, my days began to slow. I found myself gravitating naturally toward simple, grounding routines — and it was jam-making that kept drawing me back to the kitchen. There was something deeply calming in the process: washing fruit, letting it rest, watching juices slowly emerge. It asked for patience, and in return offered focus and quiet satisfaction.

It helped that 2025 was a mast year. Fruit arrived in abundance, almost insistently. My mother said, “Come now, if you want to make redcurrant jelly.” It was not a moment to be missed. Redcurrants were dripping from the branches in the fruit cage — vivid, heavy, and impossible to ignore. The jelly set to a vibrant ruby pink. Jars were given away as gifts, with more stored away to carry us through the winter months, when it is especially good with lamb and grilled goat’s cheese.

It was while making jam that I began to question the amount of sugar suggested in many recipes. Spending every summer in France, I started to explore more deeply the French approach to jam-making. I’d long been struck by the way jam is treated there — not as an afterthought, but as something considered and beautiful. On pâtisserie shelves, jars sit jewel-like beside tarts and cakes, valued for their flavour, clarity, and balance. The French confiture method, with its emphasis on maceration and restraint — allowing fruit to shine without being masked by excess sugar — immediately resonated.

Making jam became a way of slowing down and paying attention — a counterpoint to the pace I had stepped away from. It reminded me that some things are better when allowed to unfold in their own time.

Jamatelier grew from that space.

It is a place for French-inspired jam-making, seasonality, and the quiet rituals of the kitchen. A place where fruit leads, sugar follows, and patience is part of the process. It’s not about nostalgia or perfection, but about choosing to make things well — and finding meaning in the act of making.

Jamatelier is my way of sharing that philosophy. Slowly, thoughtfully, and always in season.

If this felt like your kind of pace, you may enjoy Notes from the Jam Kitchen — seasonal notes and small observations, written in step with the year.

Joining includes The Five Principles of French Jam Making, a 10-page downloadable PDF.