Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Once More Unto the Tire...

I wanted to make lemon marmalade.

Everybody makes orange marmalade (well, everybody given to making marmalade at all, that is!) and those who are adventurous make citrus marmalada, a mixture of orange, lemon, and grapefruit.

I wanted to make lemon marmalade.

I've made marmalade in the past. About 20 years ago. And my Scottish friend I told me to put a teaspoon of whiskey on top of the jar just before putting on the lid. I gave them out as Christmas presents years ago, and this year I wanted to make lemon marmalade.

For one thing, lemons are added to other jams to increase the pectin content. Lemons are the gold mine for pectin on this planet. So I knew from the start I wouldn't have to worry if I had enough pectin!

I bought 8 lbs of lemons and asked Boyfriend to pick up a gazillion tons of sugar from Costco.  I went to Canadian Tire to pick up a dozen Mason jars. I schedued my day off to make marmalade and do the Christmas cards. My iPod was at the ready, Christmas tunes lined up. It was all systems go.

It took an hour to juice the lemons and quarter the skins. Ten minutes to boil, a half hour to cool.

An hour to pull the pulp from the skins and grind it. An hour and forty-five minutes to slice the peel into thin slivers.

Four hours on the boil. Now, when I say boil, I mean a very gentle boil. I wanted a full rolling boil, the recipe clearly said that if I cooked it quicker I'd get a lighter color.

But 18 cups of fruit and 20 cups of water don't boil quickly. And I don't actually know what I would have done had the thing decided to come to a rolling boil, because it was so near the top of the huge pot.

I did the test for pectin and got a positive result - yay! But no jelly was forming. Because for jelly to form, a full boil is required.

The marmalade got darker and darker. I got desperate. My jars were sterilized, it was eight o'clock at night, I'd been at this all day.

I broke down and threw in 22 packets of gelatin. And left it to do its slow boil thing while I raced out to THE TIRE to get another 12 Mason jars, having realized I had way too much marmalade for my original dozen jars. Boyfriend was set to skimming and stirring.

I came home, sterilized the second dozen jars, and ladled the marmalade into the jars. Then, being short of whiskey, ladled a tablespoon of Grand Marnier onto the top and sealed them.

It was a thoroughly enjoyable experience to be sitting in the living room and hearing the lids go "POP!" as the vaccum drew them in and they sealed.

This morning I tested the seal. I unscrewed the ring and turned a jar upside-down. The seal was perfect.

But the marmalade was liquid.

Not even sluggish. It didn't even look sticky.

My marmalade had failed to jell.

In desperation I turned to the internet. I had done everything right, except the "full rolling boil" everybody was talking about. I sent a panicked letter to one site asking for advice. I spoke to people at work who were known to cook. As I feared, I'm the only person daft enough to want to do this kind of thing any more - nobody could offer me any suggestions.

So when I got home tonight, I promptly set the rest of the marmalade (because of course, I had more than would fit in 24 Mason jars) on the boil. A smaller amount, in a smaller pot, and it boiled rapidly in moments. I did the jelly test, and lo! jelly formed. Yay!

So it was back to THE TIRE to pick up another 12 Mason jars, run home, wash them, sterilize them, ladle the marmalde into the jars, add a tablespoon of Grand Marnier, and seal.

And wash the pot and ladle, open a dozen of last night's batch, dump the contents into the pot, wash the jars and rings, throw out the used lids, wash 12 new lids, and sterilize jars, lids and rings while the marmalade boiled.

And, if I'm lucky and jelly forms, ladle it into the jars, add the booze, seal them, and do it all over again with the final dozen jars.

So, what lessons did I learn from this experience?

Well, for starters, maybe I could have made do with a dozen lemons, till I got the process down pat, instead of making enough to feed the five thousand, at one shot!

I should have started earlier in the day. And I should have bought cases of Mason jars.

But all in all, it was a pretty good experience. I was despairing, a few minutes ago, wondering why, again, I had decided to do something on such a grand scale.

Then I tasted a bit of peel that had escaped the funnel and dropped onto the towel.

And it's heaven. Oh yes, it's lemon. And it's sweet and candied and soft and freakin' delishious!

Almost making it all worthwhile!