Ten pounds of oranges? Turns out to be a stockpotful, with precious little space over. So I boiled 'em up - with care - yesterday, and left them to sit overnight. And was going to address them this morning, and then this afternoon, but stuff got in the way; and it wasn't really until the early evening that I started in with the marmalading process.
Ten pounds of sugar? Is a hell of a lot of sugar. Tipping that into the pan with the orange-boiling-water was kinda nervous-making, because it looked like way too much.
Ten pounds of oranges? Is thirty-seven oranges, when you talk about Sevilles. That's seventy-four halves, when you've halved them. That's seventy-four pulps to be scooped out, which is a hell of a lot to try to wrap up in one sheet of cheesecloth; and then seventy-four rinds to be chopped up and added back to the pot. And then the giant cheesecloth bag goes in too, and - yeah. We were within half an inch of the rim, people, before it even started simmering.
And then Karen came home and Mark came round for dinner, and I hadn't even started cooking dinner, but I reassured them: look, I said, I've just put my British thermometer in and it says it's almost at the setting point already and it's barely started boiling, I just need to stand over it and simmer carefully for a bit, I'll be done in half an hour...
Hah. An hour and a half later, m'wife came gently to remind me that we had a guest and he was starving and perhaps I should do something about that?
So I added my American thermometer to the mix. The British one said we were way over setting temperature; the US one said we weren't quite there yet. I figured the US one should know what it was talking about, and started cooking dinner around the edges of the seething monster that was the marmalade pan.
Next time I looked? ALL THE NUMBERS HAD BOILED OFF THE AMERICAN THERMOMETER. The mercury was fine, thanks, it said we were this hot - but I had no way of knowing how hot this was. So I fell back on the old saucer trick, and boiled on. And on.
And we ate dinner, while the marmalade boiled on.
And then finally I got wrinkles on my saucer, and Mark went home, and I bottled up my marmalade.
Ten pounds of oranges, plus ten pounds of sugar, plus water to cover? Makes twelve pints of marmalade, apparently, plus a little bowlful for testing in the morning. It's very dark - mature, we call it - after all that endless boiling. This doesn't distress me, it's kind of how I like it; but oy, it really should not have taken that long. More than two hours of boiling, that was; and okay, it started at a gentle simmer and I only turned it up once I'd boiled off enough to make a vigorous bubble safe, but even so. Insane.
We'll see how it tastes in the morning. We actually ran out of last year's marmalade three days ago; I think probably I'll go back to the lovely grocery store in SF and buy more oranges, to make half-pints to give away, because twelve pints is probably a comfortable supply for us but I do have this bad habit of giving jars to people, 'cos I'm kind of proud of my marmalade generally, all things considered. Only if I do that, perhaps I'll get a little less than ten pounds next time...
Ten pounds of sugar? Is a hell of a lot of sugar. Tipping that into the pan with the orange-boiling-water was kinda nervous-making, because it looked like way too much.
Ten pounds of oranges? Is thirty-seven oranges, when you talk about Sevilles. That's seventy-four halves, when you've halved them. That's seventy-four pulps to be scooped out, which is a hell of a lot to try to wrap up in one sheet of cheesecloth; and then seventy-four rinds to be chopped up and added back to the pot. And then the giant cheesecloth bag goes in too, and - yeah. We were within half an inch of the rim, people, before it even started simmering.
And then Karen came home and Mark came round for dinner, and I hadn't even started cooking dinner, but I reassured them: look, I said, I've just put my British thermometer in and it says it's almost at the setting point already and it's barely started boiling, I just need to stand over it and simmer carefully for a bit, I'll be done in half an hour...
Hah. An hour and a half later, m'wife came gently to remind me that we had a guest and he was starving and perhaps I should do something about that?
So I added my American thermometer to the mix. The British one said we were way over setting temperature; the US one said we weren't quite there yet. I figured the US one should know what it was talking about, and started cooking dinner around the edges of the seething monster that was the marmalade pan.
Next time I looked? ALL THE NUMBERS HAD BOILED OFF THE AMERICAN THERMOMETER. The mercury was fine, thanks, it said we were this hot - but I had no way of knowing how hot this was. So I fell back on the old saucer trick, and boiled on. And on.
And we ate dinner, while the marmalade boiled on.
And then finally I got wrinkles on my saucer, and Mark went home, and I bottled up my marmalade.
Ten pounds of oranges, plus ten pounds of sugar, plus water to cover? Makes twelve pints of marmalade, apparently, plus a little bowlful for testing in the morning. It's very dark - mature, we call it - after all that endless boiling. This doesn't distress me, it's kind of how I like it; but oy, it really should not have taken that long. More than two hours of boiling, that was; and okay, it started at a gentle simmer and I only turned it up once I'd boiled off enough to make a vigorous bubble safe, but even so. Insane.
We'll see how it tastes in the morning. We actually ran out of last year's marmalade three days ago; I think probably I'll go back to the lovely grocery store in SF and buy more oranges, to make half-pints to give away, because twelve pints is probably a comfortable supply for us but I do have this bad habit of giving jars to people, 'cos I'm kind of proud of my marmalade generally, all things considered. Only if I do that, perhaps I'll get a little less than ten pounds next time...
(no subject)
Date: 2013-02-13 07:11 am (UTC)-I wonder whether there is a scientific way of determining how much water goes in, rather than "to cover"
-I consider your experience proof positive that small batches are better than large. Twelve pints is an enormous amount of jam to do at once. Six is about my limit, and I use similar-sized pots.
-Since you have the pulp etc in there, try doing it in a couple of bags instead of just one, you may get better pectin extraction. When doing quince we do two or three bags of quince seeds etc.
-It will taste Just Fine.
-Have you still not been to Berkeley Bowl. OMG you must go.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-02-13 07:46 am (UTC)- My feeling is that if anything's different over here, it is that the Sevilles have fewer seeds, and I believe a lot of the pectin is in the seeds.
- Yup, I agree: too big a batch. Tho' I did eight pounds at a time last year, and that was fine. Ten pounds just tipped everything over all the edges at once.
- Definitely, if I do this much again, two bags for the pulp. I was panicking, because clearly the one bag wasn't going to hold it all; only then I found a whole lot more cheesecloth, and could double-wrap it.
- It does indeed taste Just Fine.
- I have still not been to Berkeley Bowl. We almost never get into Berkeley.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-02-13 09:36 pm (UTC)Yes, pectin is in the seeds, and there is more in underripe fruit. It sounds to me as though your lack of pectin was to blame for the marmalade not setting. The dark color hints that you cooked it through candying stages to the one just before "OH NO CANDY." That is what most people do when their pectin fails! Personally I prefer that darker flavor, but it takes more time to achieve, which is why we do not typically see it in store marmalades, I guess.
I suggest just using a little pectin next time to ensure a set. With everything available at peak ripeness, it is hard to get the mix of green and ripe fruit that natural pectin requires. Also, 10 lb., man, just do five at a time max and you'll have better control and also you'll get bored and start saying "What if I chop up this bag of dried apricots and shred some ginger in there too, huh?" which adds variety to life.
Another approach might be (I haven't checked the pectin content; other types of citrus could well vary) to buy a bag of juicing oranges, juice 'em, and use the seeds and pith (which will be dry, but pectin-bearing, theoretically) in the marmalade. Or other citrus like grapefruit, I suppose, might work too.
(no subject)
Date: 2013-02-13 09:54 pm (UTC)I don't need to buy juicing oranges, we have a treeful. It's my great lament, that it's the wrong kind of oranges; I just don't find navels interesting. But good for juicing, yeah...
Thanks for all the wisdom & advice. And yes, I really should experiment more; I do have this tendency to find one thing I like, and just do that.