Our story

JamTastic began with a single copper pot and a table full of neighbors.

We started in Bad Wildbad with baskets of fruit from nearby hills. The recipes grew, the orchard stayed close, and every jar still tastes like that first shared morning. We still cook in small batches, letting the seasons set the pace and the town keep us grounded. Each harvest brings new variations, but we still stir by hand, tasting and sharing with neighbors before anything leaves the kitchen. Even as the shelves filled, we kept the same table, the same copper kettles, and the same promise to let the fruit lead every batch. Our pantry is lined with handwritten notes, and the air still smells of simmering berries on cool mornings. When the first jars cool on the windowsill, we open one, share a spoonful, and remember why we began. The fields are a short walk away, and the stories travel from porch to porch long after the last pot is washed.