Showing posts sorted by relevance for query sweet orange marmalade. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query sweet orange marmalade. Sort by date Show all posts

Saturday, January 26, 2019

Sweet Orange Marmalade


blood oranges with juicer

 I always thought jam making had to be a summertime pursuit.  Utilizing fruit at its peak beginning with the strawberry harvest in late June then on to raspberries, peaches and pears as we move into fall, to mention a few.  But jam should really be made in the winter on a cold, dark day when the weather is twenty degrees at noon and all I want to do is stay inside, wearing my slippers and sipping a cup of hot tea.  I actually feel like firing up the canning pot since I have all the time in the world to stir preserves at the toasty warm stove.  Forget watching football, jam is the thing to make on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
  If fresh fruit at its peak is required for this project, then citrus is the thing in January.  Marmalade to be exact, is the type of jam to put up.  The problem is, I have never cozied up to the taste of it.  Looking at a jar of sticky orange jell, skinny strips of dark orange zest suspended throughout, it always looked sweet and inviting.  That is, until I tasted it.  I expected the sweet, fruity flavor I encounter in my favorite jam flavors, that sugary sour bite like from citrus candy. But the shocking surprise of the bitter pith taste threw me off.
  Growing up, we never had a jar of marmalade hanging out in the back of our refrigerator. Val says it's because us kids didn't like it and she used all of her jam and jelly budget on Smucker's strawberry or raspberry for our lunch box PB& J's. We were never forced to acquire a taste for those sophisticated preserves.  I'm sure she would have liked to treat herself to a fancy gourmet jar of imported orange marmalade but couldn't justify the expense.  Fyi, she usually has a jar tucked away for herself now that she doesn't have to pander to our needs, anymore.
  For some reason, I wrongly assumed that children today and those of my generation (under the age of fifty years old), share my opinion regarding marmalade.  But a quickly posted question on facebook revealed an informal and completely unscientific survey that said otherwise.  When asked, "Is marmalade just for grandmothers and Brits?" the results returned a 50/50 of pros and cons, from all different age groups.  For those against, my guess is that the bitter pith is to blame.
  So, I set out to create a version of marmalade to please my sweet tooth.  Blood oranges for the intense color and Cara Cara for their sweetness.  I only used a small amount of zest.  And as for the pith, that all ended up in the compost bucket after I cut it away from each piece of fruit leaving just the juice and the edible sections. I needed to add some pectin on the second day of the process, having removed the part of the fruit with it.  But other than that, I did not have to mess with the fruit all that much.  I think what I created can please both parties: those that like marmalade in its traditional form and those of us who prefer a sweeter note on their morning toast.

jars of sweet orange marmalade on a table


 Sweet Orange Marmalade
(makes approximately four 8 oz jars)

2.5 pounds (combined) blood oranges and Cara Cara oranges 
1 1/2 cups apple juice
3 cups sugar
juice from 2 lemons
1-2 tablespoons natural fruit pectin

Day one:
  Thoroughly wash all the oranges.  Peel the zest from the pith of one blood orange.  Finely dice and place in a large stock pot.  Cut away the peel and pith from all the oranges.  Roughly chop all the oranges, remove any seeds and add all the chopped oranges and juices to the pot.  Discard remaining peel and all pith.  Cover oranges with apple juice.  If the oranges are not completely covered in liquid, add just enough water to cover them.  Bring the mixture to a boil and cook uncovered until the mixture reduces by one third.  This takes about 30 to 40 minutes.
  Gradually add the sugar, stirring constantly until it dissolves.  Add the lemon juice and taste.  If needed, add more sugar or more lemon juice.  Boil for 5 more minutes.  Remove from heat and allow mixture to rest overnight.
Day two:
  Place a few small plates in your freezer for the plate test.  If you are planning to can the marmalade, set up your canning pot with boiling water enough to cover the jars by at least one to two inches.  Sterilize jars, lids and rings.
Bring the orange mixture to a boil over high heat, stirring often.  If the mixture appears to be thickened, test it by placing a few teaspoons on a chilled plate and hold it vertically to the ground for a second.  If the preserves are finished, they will not run much and will set up semi-firmly if placed back in the freezer for a few minutes.  If it remains runny, it is not finished and may need some added pectin.  To be sure, bring the mixture to 215 degrees on a candy thermometer.  If it is still not thickened at that point, add pectin a tablespoon at a time, bring back to boil and do the plate test again.  The mixture should resemble a very thick syrup while it is still hot.
  Once the jam is set, remove from heat and allow it to rest for about 2 minutes.
Ladle jam into warm jars leaving 1/4 inch head space.  Wipe the rims of the jars with a clean, damp cloth.  Place a sterilized lid on top and screw into place with a ring.  Place jars in water bath in canning pot with at least 1-2 inches of water covering the top of the jars.  Bring water to a boil, decrease heat to a simmer and process for 10 minutes.  Turn off the heat and leave the jars in the water for about 2 minutes more.
  Using a jar lifter or tongs along with a pot holder, transfer the jars onto a smooth surface to cool undisturbed for 8 hours.  Check to be sure the jars have sealed.  If any did not, refrigerate and use within a few weeks.  The properly sealed jars can be stored in a cool, dry place for up to 2 years.

Saturday, February 6, 2021

Self Care

 



It's so God damned cold today I can barely make it through my morning workout. I pushed it from the usual 7am to 3 hours later allowing for the outside temperature to rise from 12 degrees to a tolerable 20 degrees. But 20 degrees has proven to be less than bearable, and I dragged myself through the neighborhood all in the name of getting some fresh air.

I've been popping vitamin D pills and trying to remember to take fish oils after each meal to lower my cholesterol. Going to bed at a decent hour, avoiding stress, eating pretty well and exercising. All of the things that one is "supposed" to do in order to maintain a healthy lifestyle. But honestly, I don't know how well all this is working. The only thing that truly feels like self-care is my daily dose of vitamin C shaken with vodka and ice and served in a chilled martini glass. 

You may think I am joking, but I am not. I come by this healthy advice honestly. My grandmother, a retired nurse who lived into her nineties, notoriously hated salad and I never once saw her eat a piece of fresh fruit. But she enjoyed good health throughout her years which must be somehow attributed to her daily ritual of a cocktail before dinner. Vodka and Fresca (a carbonated soft drink made with grapefruit juice) later gave way to vodka and lemonade which she enjoyed served in a tall glass with ice, gently stirred. 

My grandmother began her evening this way whether at home, dining out on the town or attending a family gathering, of which there have been many hosted by Val. My mother taught us our manners well. Upon our guests' arrival, we took their coats and offered a beverage. Of course, we knew Grammy's choice and had the ingredients ready. She didn't mind a heavy pour but always admonished us when we attempted to stir her drink with a table knife, for lack of proper bar ware, "Don't stir with a knife, you will stir strife!", she warned which left the junior bartender charged with making her drink to stir it with a fork or her finger when Grammy wasn't looking.

While I was growing up, my grandmother escaped the harsh New England winter months to her condo in Florida. We went sledding, made snowmen and shoveled driveways while she golfed and swam in the pool. Then, eventually, she pointed her Cadillac north and made her way home. I anticipated her arrival with excitement. She always brought gifts for each of us along with bags of fragrant smelling Florida oranges and juicy grapefruits. I didn't like the grapefruit, but my sister devoured them for breakfast sliced in half and caked in granulated sugar. I preferred the oranges, quartered and served in a small bowl, juices running down my forearms as I sat on the floor after school and watched re-run episodes of Gilligan's Island until my mother made me shut off the t.v. and go outside to play.

My taste in assorted citrus fruit has expanded along with the offerings in local supermarkets. Blood oranges, Cara Cara, Ruby Red grapefruit and more can be found on any day during the frosty winter months. I look forward to their arrival in the produce department and grab bags of them for various recipes: Sweet Orange Marmalade, a favorite fancy citrus salad and of course, cocktail experimentation. My new favorite: Blood Orange Margarita. Not only is it beautiful to behold, bright and welcoming while the snow is falling outside but it is also tart, not too sweet. Mixing one puts a smile on my face. The same feeling, I get when I see the sun shining bright in a clear blue February sky. I know that the arrival of springtime isn't far behind. And I pat myself on the back for taking pretty damn good care of myself at the end of a cold, harsh winter day.




Blood Orange Margarita

(makes one)

1 1/2 oz. fresh squeezed juice f(rom one medium sized blood orange)

1 oz. lime juice (from 1/2 medium sized lime)

2 teaspoons agave 

1/4 oz. triple sec

2 oz. tequila

lime wheel or 1/2 orange wheel for garnish (optional)

  Fill a martini or margarita glass with ice and water. Set aside to chill.

 Add all ingredients except garnish to a shaker filled with ice.  Shake vigorously for 15-30 seconds. Empty ice water from chilled glass. Strain cocktail from shaker into chilled glass, garnish and serve.


Blood Orange Martini

(makes one)

1 1/2 oz. freshly squeezed blood orange juice (from one blood orange)

1/2 oz. lime juice (from one 1/4 lime)

3/4 oz. St Germaine elderflower liquor

1/2 teaspoon agave 

2 oz. vodka

lime wedge or wheel for garnish


Fill a martini glass with ice and water. Set aside to chill.

Add all ingredients except garnish into shaker filled with ice. Shake vigorously for 15-30 seconds. Empty ice water from chilled glass. Strain cocktail from shaker into chilled glass, garnish and serve.