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desperanceI have myself been called a vintage novelist (grr: I'm not yet quite 52.25, y'know...). In print, yet.
The only commercial brand of marmalade I'm prepared to take seriously offers two varieties, its standard Oxford Marmalade and its Vintage Oxford. Apparently, so do I.
It was purely serendipitous. Deconstructing the process in retrospect, my current theory states that late-season Sevilles are drier and less juicy than their earlier-harvested brethren, and therefore more inclined to float. Therefore, when I pour in water to cover - well, it takes me a while to realise that actually that top layer? Is floating. I did actually think of fishing out the last jugful of water, but nah, I thought. It'll cook off.
And so, of course, it did. Eventually. It took hours. My established process includes cooking the chopped orange peel with the juice-water and the pip-bag and the sugar for a couple of hours, then boiling vigorously for ten minutes to achieve a set. Make that boil vigorously for two hours, last night. All of which made for a much darker jelly and an almost caramel flavour: definitely, I am calling this my vintage set. Aged in the pan, as it were.
I think it's rather nice, though I depend as ever on the verdict of my public. Who may prefer the fresher flavour of the standard set. We shall see.
The only commercial brand of marmalade I'm prepared to take seriously offers two varieties, its standard Oxford Marmalade and its Vintage Oxford. Apparently, so do I.
It was purely serendipitous. Deconstructing the process in retrospect, my current theory states that late-season Sevilles are drier and less juicy than their earlier-harvested brethren, and therefore more inclined to float. Therefore, when I pour in water to cover - well, it takes me a while to realise that actually that top layer? Is floating. I did actually think of fishing out the last jugful of water, but nah, I thought. It'll cook off.
And so, of course, it did. Eventually. It took hours. My established process includes cooking the chopped orange peel with the juice-water and the pip-bag and the sugar for a couple of hours, then boiling vigorously for ten minutes to achieve a set. Make that boil vigorously for two hours, last night. All of which made for a much darker jelly and an almost caramel flavour: definitely, I am calling this my vintage set. Aged in the pan, as it were.
I think it's rather nice, though I depend as ever on the verdict of my public. Who may prefer the fresher flavour of the standard set. We shall see.