Lemon-Vanilla Marmalade

It feels quite strange to be writing in December about something I made back in February, but I suppose that's the good thing about preserves; they keep. I've actually wanted to write about this marmalade for a long time, but decided to wait until it was nearer Christmas, since I made it in the first place with the intention of giving jars away as presents. And apparently, lemons are now in season, though as you can get them all year round, I don't really know what that means.

Just three beautiful ingredients.

It's no secret that I love to make food for other people, be it in regular meal-form, or as gifts like this. But although I like cooking very much (oh so very much!), there are a few things that I have always thought were either a waste of time to make yourself, or troublesome in the extreme to do so. Example of the former: pasta; of the latter: jams and marmalades.

Now, I do accept that anything is worth doing if the process is enjoyable and the results worth the time spent; I am sure that one day I will try making pasta and it will be a complete revelation. I'll probably even spend ages telling you about how wonderfully easy and fantastically delicious it was, and how you should make it too. And maybe you will. But I really, really never thought I'd bother with marmalade. All that faffing about with sterilising jars, using sugar thermometers and setting points - surely only retired old W.I. members had time for that?

Then last year at Christmas, I was given this book and everything changed. This collection of recipes achieves what many would deem impossible; it makes putting things in jars sound exciting. Yes, really. Exciting! And what's more, it shows that not only is sterilising jars easy, but that you don't actually need a sugar thermometer at all. For anything!

Did you ever think that lemon rinds soaking could be so pretty?
No. Of course you didn't. Neither did I.

My enthusiasm must show that I have been converted. I'm not going to go as far as saying that 'putting up' is the new going out (though it is tempting to do so. You must admit, it's a catchy phrase.), but I really do think this is worth making. The vanilla is my own addition. I'm sure it's not an original one, but it makes the marmalade look stunning, flecked as it is with beautiful black grains, and brings an exotic flavour and fragrance to whatever you add it to. I can recommend it not only for the obvious morning slice of toast, but also spooned into hot bowls of rice pudding or to top porridge.

I really recommend it with porridge.

You can see I recycle old jars. So could you!
Lids were bought here.

I have mentioned Pam 'the Jam' Corbin, and her recipes before, when we had the glut of vegetables from Mr. Other P's parents. But I want to mention her again now to say that her book would make a perfect present this Christmas for anybody you know who likes to cook. I have enjoyed reading and using it immensely; I'm sure lots of people would. And if you think (quite wrongly) that marmalade is too much of a faff to make as a present, then it's the next best thing you can give.

Lemon-Vanilla Marmalade

You will need:

1 kg lemons
2 kg granulated sugar
1 vanilla pod, split, seeds scraped out and reserved

• Top and tail the lemons. In other words, cut the bumps off the ends! Juice them, and then slice the rinds as thinly or thickly as you like. I think thinly is better, but will allow you the freedom to choose.
• Put the juice, rinds and 2.5 litres of water into a large bowl, and leave to soak overnight. I don't know if you really need to do this, but Pam says to and she knows better than me.
• Transfer the lemon mixture to a large (LARGE!) pan, and cook gently for a few hours until the lemon rind is soft. The liquid will have reduced by about a third.
• Add the sugar. Boil, and stir until the sugar has dissolved. Then boil rapidly until the setting point (* see note) has been reached. This took about 40 minutes for me, though start checking at 20.
• Turn off the heat. Stir through the vanilla seeds, and pour into hot, sterilised jars (* see note). Seal immediately. Use within 2 years.

NB: To check for setting point: when you start boiling the jam, put a saucer in the freezer to chill. After boiling for the required time, drop small dribbles of the jam onto the saucer and wait a moment. If, when you poke the puddle of jam with your finger, the surface forms a wrinkle, the setting point has been reached.

To sterilise jars, see here.

Chutney

Turns out chutney is easy to make, lovely to eat, but boring to photograph. I had my suspicions.

The other downer about chutney is that you can't eat it right away; it needs to mature. Boring! I feel, though, that I should post this now, because it's what I used all of the remaining vegetables for (save the parsnips - they became a soup, made by Mr. Other P while I was in Rome). But I'll update towards the end of the year when we get to try some.

In addition to the onions, beetroot and pears, I decided it was time to use up my tomatoes. I call them mine, but really I think of them as my friend Rowanne's. She grew the plants, gave them to us (in exchange for a pumpkin vine), and then hers got blight. Which is very sad indeed, but I can't say that ours were entirely a success - they stayed green all Summer. So into the pot they went!

I made chutney last year and it was too spicy, so I tried to go easy on spicing this time. I chose ginger, because I thought it would be nice with the beetroot, and the sweetness from the pears, and I put some fennel in, too. That was actually a mistake though - I thought it was coriander seed. But fennel has quite a nice earthy taste, so it should be fine. There's no going back now, anyway.

Below is what I did. But you can put anything in a chutney, so don't worry about making substitutions.

Green Tomato and Beetroot Chutney

You will need:

750g beetroot, peeled and chopped
750g pears, peeled, cored and chopped
500g green tomatoes, chopped
500g Bramley apples, peeled, cored and chopped
500g onions, chopped
500g raisins
500g sugar
600ml cider vinegar
salt pepper

good chunk of fresh ginger, peeled and crushed
1 tsp cloves
1tbsp peppercorns
1 tsp coriander seeds
1tsp fennel seeds

1. Put everything into a large (very large!) pan, and tie the spices together in a piece of muslin. Add the spice bag to the pan as well.
2. Bring to the boil, and simmer very gently for about 4 hours. It will be thick and gooey when ready.
3. That's it. Pour carefully into hot, sterilised jam jars (see here), and seal. Keep for a few months before using.

I got 3 big jars (the size you buy gherkins in), and one regular sized out of this. I think you'd be looking at 8 regular jars in total.

Pear and Apple Butter

This is not quite what it sounds like. Fruit butters, according to Pam 'the Jam' Corbin, who helps with the Preserving Days at Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's River Cottage, are so named because they spread as 'soft as butter', but are actually more like a low sugar jam. The method she gives for cider apple butter in Preserves is for an apples-only fruit butter, and involves cooking apples with spices and cider, then sieving the fruit and boiling the pulp with sugar. When cooled, the mixture sets firm, yet melts when spread onto hot toast or crumpets - just like butter.

I love the idea of preserving. I think it's really nice to be able to squirrel something away for winter, or any time of year when whatever it is you are preserving is out of season or not readily available. The deep freeze is an option, of course, and is great for some fruit or vegetables - like raspberries, peas or beans - but not everything. I did consider freezing the left over pears as a purée, but decided against it. Who wants a freezer full of puréed pears? Not me.

Thus I decided to adapt Pam's recipe to include pears. I retained the cider, because I had a bottle in the fridge (of Gwynt y Ddraig, which is Welsh, wonderful and fairly local to me), and her choice of spices, which seemed sensible.

I have tried preserving before, but not always with great success. Last Christmas, Mr. Other P and I made chutney which nobody, including us, liked very much, and the chilli jam we made at the same time didn't set, which was upsetting to say the least. But our pickled onions were out of this world, and we are dab hands at sloe gin. I am happy to say that this pear and apple butter is going on the 'good list', too. Since opening the first jar, I have had some every morning, on toast, and love everything about it - it is thick, juicy, intensely fruity, and gently spiced with cloves and cinnamon. My plan was to give most of it away as presents - a jar of this would be a great Christmas gift - but I like it so much I'll probably keep at least two more jars for myself. If you have similar plans, don't taste it; you won't want to share.

A final word: don't let the fact that you need sterilised jars put you off. Just wash whatever jars and lids you have in hot, soapy water and rinse them, then dry off on a baking sheet in a low oven (I always stick empty jam jars in a box in the shed, so have a ready supply -you can use the lids they came with). This is a really easy recipe - quick enough to get done in one go after dinner on a week night, and great fun to boot.

Pear and Apple Butter

You will need:

1kg pears, peeled, cored and chopped
500g Bramley apples, chopped (don't peel or core - you need the pectin)
juice of 2 lemons
600ml cider
600ml water
sugar (amount follows)
half tsp ground cinnamon
half tsp ground cloves

1. Put apples, pears, water and cider in a large pan and simmer until fruit is soft. If your cider comes in a 500ml bottle, don't worry - just make up the difference in water. Or get another bottle and drink what you don't use! :)
2. Push the mixture through a large sieve to pulp the fruit. The seeds and peel from the apples will be left behind - how convenient!
3. Measure the fruit pulp. Add 300g sugar for every 600ml pulp, and return to the pan. Add spices, and slowly bring to the boil, stirring. When sugar has dissolved, boil rapidly without stirring for about twenty minutes, until the mixture is thick and creamy. Pam says it should splutter - I didn't really notice, but it came out fine, so don't worry if you have quiet butter.
4. Pour into your hot, sterilised jars. Fill to the top, and seal immediately. Don't be shocked when you hear the popping sound of the safety seals on the lids about 3o minutes later - it just means you've created a vacuum, which is what you want!
5. Once opened, refrigerate.