Tag Archive for 'marmalade'

Marmalade Shortcut

A few pints of finished Marmalade.

A few pints of finished Marmalade.

A few weeks ago we lamented how difficult it was to make your own marmalade. It turns out, pleasant little English women agree. The little English women didn’t give up though, they persevered, and preserved. With a little bit of innovation, they decided to can up pre-chopped seville oranges, with a marmalade recipe on the back.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why the sun never set on the British Empire. Innovation! Determination! 8 pounds of sugar! Yes, the recipe on a can of “Ma-made Canned Seville Oranges” calls for four pounds of sugar per batch of marmalade, since we decided to do two batches at once, that meant a whopping 8 pounds of pure sugar.

We started early Sunday morning. Our friend Tish came over. This is an honest to goodness pleasant woman of British descent. We thought her presence would not only be pleasant, but also give the whole proceeding an air of Miss Marple like sophistication. I ran to Jewel and picked up the sugar, stopped at the Ace hardware on Lincoln to buy 12 pint jars, and then we got started.

We ordered the Ma-made canned oranges two weeks ago from shopenglandonline.com. We thought for sure we’d have to seek out a recipe to go along with the cans, but we didn’t…Ma-made printed it right on the side of the can. I guess there isn’t much call for a giant can of sliced seville oranges without a marmalade recipe printed on the side.

The recipe is pretty straight forward. The whole process took us about an hour or so. The kitchen smelled great the whole time. It got a teeny bit tricky towards the end, we weren’t sure how to tell if the marmalade had “set” enough to put in the jars. The can suggested a “wrinkle test,” where you put a small amount of it on a plate to cool, then run your finger across it. If it wrinkles, it’s ready. We weren’t sure the degree to which wrinkles were necessary, so we sort of winged it. It turned out we took it off the heat at just the right time.

Ladling the scalding hot jelly into jars was as painful as it sounds. All of us came away with at least one small jelly burn. One of the great things about spooning the jelly in hot is that it sterilizes the jars for you. As long as you heat the jars up a bit with hot tap water, they won’t break when you pour the hot marmalade in them. Put a lid on, and wait a few minutes. As the jar cools, the little bit of air in it compresses, which eventually pulls the pop top of the lid down. You have an officially sealed jar. Tish gave a jar of it to her Mom, an actual British subject. The review was good, “It remind me of marmalade in England.” Huzzah!

We made 11 pints of marmalade that day, at a cost of around $60, so around $5 per pint. We didn’t really save any money, but we certainly didn’t lose any either, plus it was super fun. Any amount of money is worth the thrill of a jelly burn and answering the typical “happy-monday-what’d-you-do-this-weekend” question with “not much, just made 11 pints of marmalade.”

For more pictures of the process, check out our flickr set.

Dundee Marmalade

I was in sunny Dallas this past week at a geek conference. When I got home, Camri presented me with a jar of Dundee style marmalade. Although it’s really not wildly different than other marmalade’s I’ve tried, it’s distinct. The rind pieces are much larger, and more plentiful, which gives the marmalade a more bitter bite. It’s really pretty good, but I wouldn’t recommend it for someone new to orange marmalade. If marmalade is an aquired taste, this is the straight whiskey of the marmalade world. Recommended, but use with caution.

Although it’s uncited, the wikipedia offers this explanation of Dundee marmalade:

The Scottish city of Dundee has a long association with marmalade. The oft-related story of how this came about begins sometime in the 1700s when a Spanish ship with a cargo of Seville oranges docked in Dundee harbour to shelter from storms. A grocer by the name of James Keiller bought a vast amount of the cargo at a knockdown price, but found it impossible to sell the bitter oranges to his customers. He passed the oranges on to his wife Janet who used them instead of the normal quinces to make a fruit preserve. The marmalade proved extremely popular and the Keiller family went in to business producing marmalade. However this is almost complete fiction. The truth is that in 1797, James Keiller, who was unmarried at the time, and his mother Janet opened a factory to produce “Dundee Marmalade”, that is marmalade containing thick chunks of orange rind, this recipe (probably invented by his mother) being a new twist on the already well-known fruit preserve of orange marmalade.

Miss Marmalade

It’s winter at your English country estate. A fussy old lady is solving the murder of your wealthy father. You’re checking your stocks in the Times, while you munch on a piece of toast. Quick! What’s on your toast?

Butter?

Sure.

Marmalade?

You bet.

You are Master and Commander of Her Majesty’s Ship “Indefatigable”. The wind roars outside your cabin windows. You flick a weevil off a ship’s biscuit, and spread what across its dry surface? Marmalade? Ahoy!

The point is, if you’re English, marmalade seems to be a part of your story, if not…it’s just sort of a quirky jelly that most people don’t like. Why? We don’t know. Camri doesn’t like it, she says it tastes like children’s Tylenol, I love it, in the winter time it tastes like yummy sunshine. I decided I wanted to make my own. I checked into the history of the stuff on Wikipedia, then I found a couple of recipes online. All of them used seville oranges, which are hard to get in the US. You can order big cans of them, which would yield several pounds of marmalade. I don’t need several pounds.

I considered making a bunch and giving away jars, but it turns out, I don’t really know anyone that likes marmalade. Then I thought, “hey, maybe I should make it with regular oranges!” It turns out, seville oranges have more pectin in them, meaning that I’d have to add pectin to a regular orange marmalade, and get into funky canning. Plus, if there’s any chance that the oranges you use were treated with pesticides, you’ll end up having really yucky jam. You need to find organic oranges.

What is this all building up to? I totally failed. I didn’t make my own marmalade. This is a story about giving up. Sorry folks. I stone cold gave up. I bought a jar of marmalade at the grocery store and called it a day.

Despite my failure, I can still live out my marmalade fantasies at breakfast. If you haven’t tried it, I suggest you do. If I can get a couple more people into orange-y jelly, I can justify ordering a big can of seville oranges and make a few pounds of marmalade.