Followers on Twitter will know that my dad has grown some rhubarb. Quite a lot of it. I’ve already stewed some for pudding and made some cordial, but that didn’t make a dent. We’ll be offloading some on my aunt and uncle at the weekend, but that’s also not going to use up a substantial amount. More cooking of the stuff has to happen, so I decided to make jam. Well, marmalade in this case. Actually, it might be jam for all I know, I’m not up on the archaic rules for what makes these things jam or marmalade, but we’ve always called it that for reasons, so we’ll stick with that.
Now, there’s history to this latest experiment in the kitchen. I have never made jam before. Closest I’ve been to it is stewing the rhubarb mentioned above. I have, however, watched it being made from as far back as I can remember, because mum would make a lot of the stuff. So this was a bittersweet project for me, because I had to do it without mum, but I think she’d be well chuffed I was doing it, and even more chuffed I didn’t cover the walls in a stick mess. Pretty sure my Nan would, too, as she’s the one who got mum into preserves and chutneys. Though as I seem to take after her in my cooking habbits, she wouldn’t have been fazed if I had made a jammy mess.
I’m making Rhubarb’s Marmalade, and I still have the sealed jar of the last of the batch mum made, which I am never going to eat. It’s my favourite jammy stuff, it needs replenishing, and even the version from Chatsworth House pales in comparison. To add to the pall of woe, it’s called ‘Rhubarb’s’ marmalade after a beloved guinea pig I lost in my teens. It’s been called that ever since.
However, the marmalade and making it were not at all filled with despair, so worry not. No tissues needed, unless it’s to wipe up mess. It was a cathartic experience, and was a small way of helping me deal with not having mum around anymore.
The recipe I used was a combination of a basic orange marmalade recipe from ‘Old Faithful’ (a cookbook we’ve had since the early 80s that has loads of basic recipes in and is what I learned to cook with), and some tweaks written by mum in the back of the book to account for the rhubarb ingredient. Spliced together, the recipe is thus:
Rhubarb’s Marmalade Ingredients
2lb/900g rhubarb
2lb/900g sugar (granulated, caster or preserving)
2 oranges
Makes enough to fill 4x 324ml jam jars
Instructions
Chop up the rhubarb into chunks and throw them into your preserving pan (or stock pan works). Zest the orange peel, or cut it into chunks and bung it in. Squeeze the life out of the oranges and throw the juice over the rhubarb. Add the sugar, and stir until it’s all mixed up. Leave for 24 hours, stirring occasionally.
When it’s time to cook, bring your rhubarb mix to the boil, then simmer gently for 45 minutes to an hour, stirring occasionally. While you’re cooking the mixture, preheat your oven to Gas Mark 1/140°C/120°F. Wash your jars thoroughly in warm, soapy water, then bung them in the oven on a tray to let them dry and warm up. Also pop a saucer in the freezer.
After about 45 minutes, when your mixture is a gloopy mess resembling a swamp, take the saucer from the freezer and put a teaspoon or so of marmalade onto it, then tilt it so it runs a bit and spreads out. The cold saucer will mean the marmalade will cool rapidly so you can test it. Poke it after a minute, and if it seems like a good thickness for your marmalade, you’re done. If not, leave it cooking for 10 minutes and try again.
Take your jars from them oven, then ladle the marmalade carefully into them, then cover with wax discs and screw the lids on. Wipe any sticky residue off with a warm cloth. Label when cold, otherwise they won’t stick properly due to heat.
My adventures in cooking
It didn’t go exactly to plan, but it was by no means a disaster.
Problem 1: Mum’s preserving pan seemed to have vanished, either into a shed or @abjectcheddar might have nobbled it. Alas, she hadn’t, and as I really didn’t want to go on an archaeology expedition into our multitude of sheds, I used my stock pan.
Problem 2: Due to other cooking projects (flapjacks for dad, mainly) we only had light brown sugar in the required quantity. As that worked nicely in the stewed rhubarb, I decided to throw caution to the wind and use that. Driving out was not an option as I was suffering from some dizziness. Waiting a day was not an option because of the time constraints of dad going away for a long weekend, and me wanting to be able to offload yet more sodding rhubarb down to Brighton in marmalade form. The brown sugar did work fine, it just added a hint of molasses.
The process of cooking it was simpler than I expected. I kind of assumed mum made it look simple because of years of experience, but it wasn’t complicated. I suppose that makes sense, given that in ye olde days you wanted simple methods of preserving fruit and vegetables.
Much to my surprise I made very little mess. In fact, the biggest mess was a glob of marmalade down the side of one jar. As I’m generally a messy cook I’m now deeply suspicious this means something will go horribly wrong at some point in the near future.
The end results
Ta-da! Tastes pretty good, looks spiffy in the jars. I’ll be doing this again, though may try granulated or caster sugar instead of brown sugar next time (there’s still a load of rhubarb to use up) to get the version I like best. I’ll definitely do some more jam making this year as we’ve got the strawberries on the way. Might be nice to try making a rhubarb and strawberry jam, given the older I get, the blander I find strawberries.
