Sue Veed
Veteran
I hesitate to describe this as a recipe; in common with most of what I do (except pastry/ baking, where weights and measures are rather more crucial), quantities are approximate.
I'd reached the last scrape-outs of my previous batch of lime marmalade, made almost two years ago, so was delighted to find limes on sale at Stickney car boot in deepest Lincolnshire at a decidedly reasonable price of 8 for £1.
Two quids worth of limes, plus another slightly desiccated specimen which had been decorating the fruit bowl for at least three weeks, weighed just under 1.3Kg, so a 1Kg bag of ordinary granulated sugar, plus about 200 grams of light demerara went into a loaf tin, to be warmed in the oven at the same time as the jars were to be warmed and sterilised at ~110 C.
Since I didn't know whether the limes had been waxed, I assumed that they had, and agitated them in freshly boiled water before draining and rinsing them.
Considering that the last batch had peel that was the wrong side of simply chewy, I simmered the limes whole in about 3 litres of water for 90 minutes in the stainless preserving pan, after which they seemed acceptably tender.
Hoiked them out with a slotted spoon, left them to cool until I could handle them without needing juggling skills, cut them in half, squeezed the pulp and juice back into the pan, then scraped the thin pith from the skins and placed it in a muslin straining bag along with the few pips. The tied bag went into the pan, as did the peel, sliced as thinly as I could be bothered to do, i.e not particularly.
Another spell of simmering, maybe 45 minutes, before lifting out the muslin bag and pressing it in a sieve over the pan to extract as much pectin from it as I could. Now the warmed sugar was added and the heat increased, stirring until the sugar was all dissolved, then a steady boil for about 20 minutes until setting point was reached, as well as I could judge with the time honoured test of dropping a small sample on a cold saucer. Past errors were remembered of putting marmalade in jars while it was still too hot, resulting in all the peel ending up in the top third of the jar, so this time it was left to rest for about 15 minutes before stirring and filling the waiting jars.
Result: six jars, all of roughly the same 1lb size but disparate shapes. Glad I didn't need more, as these were the only ones with screw tops - so I didn't need to raid the reserve stock, some of which are officially antique! Honestly - they have registered numbers on them of 540541, 543227 and 564434, dating back to 1909/10.
PS Mrs Veed came back after a day up town and declared the marmalade delicious. She didn't know but she'd tasted the scrape-outs of the last batch, which I'd decanted into an egg cup!
I'd reached the last scrape-outs of my previous batch of lime marmalade, made almost two years ago, so was delighted to find limes on sale at Stickney car boot in deepest Lincolnshire at a decidedly reasonable price of 8 for £1.
Two quids worth of limes, plus another slightly desiccated specimen which had been decorating the fruit bowl for at least three weeks, weighed just under 1.3Kg, so a 1Kg bag of ordinary granulated sugar, plus about 200 grams of light demerara went into a loaf tin, to be warmed in the oven at the same time as the jars were to be warmed and sterilised at ~110 C.
Since I didn't know whether the limes had been waxed, I assumed that they had, and agitated them in freshly boiled water before draining and rinsing them.
Considering that the last batch had peel that was the wrong side of simply chewy, I simmered the limes whole in about 3 litres of water for 90 minutes in the stainless preserving pan, after which they seemed acceptably tender.
Hoiked them out with a slotted spoon, left them to cool until I could handle them without needing juggling skills, cut them in half, squeezed the pulp and juice back into the pan, then scraped the thin pith from the skins and placed it in a muslin straining bag along with the few pips. The tied bag went into the pan, as did the peel, sliced as thinly as I could be bothered to do, i.e not particularly.
Another spell of simmering, maybe 45 minutes, before lifting out the muslin bag and pressing it in a sieve over the pan to extract as much pectin from it as I could. Now the warmed sugar was added and the heat increased, stirring until the sugar was all dissolved, then a steady boil for about 20 minutes until setting point was reached, as well as I could judge with the time honoured test of dropping a small sample on a cold saucer. Past errors were remembered of putting marmalade in jars while it was still too hot, resulting in all the peel ending up in the top third of the jar, so this time it was left to rest for about 15 minutes before stirring and filling the waiting jars.
Result: six jars, all of roughly the same 1lb size but disparate shapes. Glad I didn't need more, as these were the only ones with screw tops - so I didn't need to raid the reserve stock, some of which are officially antique! Honestly - they have registered numbers on them of 540541, 543227 and 564434, dating back to 1909/10.
PS Mrs Veed came back after a day up town and declared the marmalade delicious. She didn't know but she'd tasted the scrape-outs of the last batch, which I'd decanted into an egg cup!
