orange marmalade

My high school years were spent at a project-based charter school, where my mom was given complete reign in designing my curriculum (she’s a scientist known for developing award-winning education programs). In the 11th grade, she thought I’d have fun learning the chemistry of jam making. I’d always made crazy food concoctions (peanut butter and pickles, anyone?) and she thought I would benefit from understanding the science behind cooking.

Experimentation led to the creation of “Berry, Berry”, a jam created from raspberries, blueberries, and black cherries. Family and friends raved about it, so for fun, I entered it in the County Fair. I was shocked when I learned I’d won a blue ribbon. I call it my “gateway ribbon” because I’ve been addicted to entering new recipes ever since. My jams, syrups, cookies, and breads have won an assortment of ribbons from “Best of Class” to “Best of Show”. I learned to decorate my entries, which became known as much for their presentation as for their taste. It’s been 10 years, and I haven’t missed a County Fair since my first entry. That is, until this year.

When I began preparations in March, the County Fair was still on schedule. Like always, I reviewed the list of rules and regulations, as well as entry and judging dates in April. I cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom and sterilized all pots, pans, and jars that would be used. In the years following high school, I became a cultural anthropologist; sometimes I incorporate unusual spices and fruits into my recipes, and I often share the history behind my entries. My goal this year was to make the ultimate orange marmalade. Believed to be of Portuguese origin, orange marmalade was created with the bitter Seville orange.

Jam-making is a chemical balance of sugar, pectin, and acids, carefully orchestrated and combined through the use of heat. Not enough pectin and jam won’t set. Without enough cooling time the fruit will rise to the top of each jar. Too much heat can also bring out a bitterness, which I was trying to avoid. I wanted my marmalade to be citrus forward without any aftertaste. The normal setting point of jam is reached when the mixture is cooked to 220°- 222°F. Research taught me this was too high for marmalade. Any temperature over 219°F would produce a rubbery texture with the bitter flavor I was striving to avoid. Any temperature lower would create a runny mess.

My procedure was meticulous. Using a thermometer I reached the perfect temperature, which is why I was so disappointed when I opened my “testing jar.” The flavor was perfect, but the marmalade was too runny. I spent a week trying to figure out what went wrong, and was prepared to start again when I opened a second jar. It was perfect! It had just needed time to set.

The elation of having succeeded with my marmalade was short-lived. The following day a state-wide “stay-at-home” order was issued and all non-essential businesses were closed due to Covid-19. The County Fair was cancelled. There won’t be any ribbons this year, and I won’t be decorating my jars as it’s safer to keep things plain and clean right now but, I’m not as disappointed as I thought I’d be. I realized that my “addiction” for entering the County Fair is more about challenging myself to create new things than winning ribbons.

My time at home has included more time in the kitchen. Experimenting with recipes from old cookbooks I’ve collected through the years has brought about discoveries of long-forgotten jam recipes and treats like popovers, tea rolls, and streusels. While the coronavirus pandemic has brought incredible challenges to my daily life, it has also brought me a gift of reconnecting with the past.