How I Learned to Can Carrots Without Poisoning Anyone (Including Myself)

You grow carrots, you pull them fresh from the dirt, and for a minute—just a minute—you feel like a champion. But then what?

You eat a few raw, maybe roast some, but they keep piling up. And they don’t wait. They start to wilt, lose their crunch, maybe grow weird roots again in the fridge.

So I started canning. Not the cute Pinterest-y kind, but the “I’ve got 20 pounds of carrots and a mission” kind. Here’s everything I wish someone had told me before I ever stuck a mason jar in a pressure canner.

Why Water Bath Canning Will Actually Make You Sick

I hate to start with a scare tactic, but here it is: you cannot water bath can carrots. They’re a low-acid food, and that means botulism is a real risk.

Not imaginary, not overblown. Real. And it’s the kind of toxin that doesn’t make the jar look spoiled. You can’t smell it. You can’t see it.

Botulism spores only die at 240°F or hotter, which is impossible to hit with boiling water. You need a pressure canner, the kind that locks tight and builds up real pressure. I held off buying one for too long. Don’t be me.

What Carrots Actually Work (And Which Ones Don’t)

So here’s what I’ve figured out: not all carrots were meant for jars. The ones that grow big and knobby? Too woody. They end up chewy and weird. Go for the smaller, thinner ones—about an inch across, tops.

And skip the bagged baby carrots. They’re not babies, they’re just shaped that way. And usually treated with chlorine. Not what you want in a jar for a year.

When I’m planning to can, I figure about 3 pounds of trimmed carrots per quart jar. Trust me, it’s always more than you think.

Prepping Carrots Is… Kind of a Process

Wash the carrots. Then peel them. Then wash ‘em again. I used to skip peeling (lazy, I know), but the peels give off this earthy, almost dirty taste after they’ve been canned for a while. Plus they can get stringy.

Cut them however you want—rounds, sticks, chunks. Just not too thin or they’ll turn to mush. I did that once. Whole jar ended up like carrot baby food.

Raw Pack vs. Hot Pack (Both Work, But Here’s the Catch)

You’ve got two options, and neither is wrong. But they give you different results.

Raw Pack

This one’s fast. You just shove the raw carrots into hot jars and pour boiling water over them. Leave 1 inch of headspace. Easy, but the downside? The carrots float. Like a lot. Looks weird, and maybe traps air pockets.

If I’m in a rush or doing 20 jars in one go, I’ll raw pack. Just make sure you really de-bubble—I run a plastic chopstick around the edge a few times.

Hot Pack

You simmer your carrots in boiling water for 5 minutes first, then jar them with that hot water. Carrots get soft, they pack tighter, and you don’t get the same float.

I use this when I want the jars to look nice on the shelf. Or if I’m gifting them.

Let’s Pressure Can These Things Already

Here’s how I do it. No frills, just works.

1. Start with clean, hot jars (I keep mine warm in the oven).
2. Add canning salt if you want—½ tsp for pints, 1 tsp for quarts.
3. Pack carrots and pour in hot water or cooking liquid.
4. Use a spatula (plastic!) to remove air bubbles. It’s a big deal.
5. Top up water if needed. Gotta keep that 1 inch of headspace.
6. Wipe the rims clean with a damp towel. Any gunk can mess up your seal.
7. Pop on lids, screw on bands just until they’re snug—not tight.

Set your pressure canner up with 2–3 inches of water inside. Put in your jars, spaced apart so they’re not touching. Lock the lid, vent steam for 10 minutes, then bring up pressure.

Pressure Times and What You Need to Know

• Pints: 25 minutes
• Quarts: 30 minutes

Now the pressure depends on your elevation and your canner type:

Weighted gauge:

• 0–1,000 ft: 10 lbs
• Above 1,000 ft: 15 lbs

Dial gauge:

• 0–2,000 ft: 11 lbs
• Above that? Gotta adjust—look it up or call your extension office.

Important: If pressure drops even once, you have to start the timer over. I’ve had to redo a batch because I got distracted chasing my dog. Don’t be me.

After the Canner: What to Do With Your Jars

Let that canner cool on its own. Don’t open the vent early. Don’t move it. Don’t jiggle the lid. Just walk away. Seriously.

Once it’s back to zero pressure:

• Wait another 10 minutes
• Open the lid (tilt it away from your face)
• Lift the jars out and set them on a towel.

Let them sit, undisturbed, 12–24 hours. Once cool, remove the rings and check the seals. If a lid flexes, that one’s no good. Put it in the fridge and use it soon.

Label the rest and store in a cool, dark spot. They’ll keep well for 1–2 years, though I’ve opened some after 3 with no issues.

What I Use My Canned Carrots For (Spoiler: Not Just Soup)

Okay, so they’re soft. These aren’t crunchy salad carrots anymore. But they’re so handy.

Here’s what I do with ‘em:

• Warm with butter and cinnamon for a fast side
• Toss straight into stews or soups—no chopping, no peeling
• Mash for carrot cake or muffins (yes, really)
• Baby food (if you’re into that stage of life)
• Mix with chickpeas and cumin for a killer veggie bowl

Basically, they save me time. And in February, when my garden’s a frozen memory, they taste like sunshine.

This Was Supposed to Be Harder, But It’s Not

I always thought canning was complicated or dangerous. But once I got the hang of it—and respected the pressure canner rules—it became a routine. It’s just food and heat and timing.

Now, when I look at those jars lined up on the shelf, I don’t just see carrots—I see one less trip to the store. One more meal I can make in 5 minutes. And a little proof that yeah, I grew that. I made that last.

And hey—if you’re growing carrots, you might as well make them last all year.