Bitter orange marmalade, the flavor of my Spanish breakfasts

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogI can’t help it, but every time I have toast with bitter orange marmalade, or Seville orange marmalade, as the jar may be labeled, I think of my dad.

Bitter orange marmalade was my dad‘s, and also my, favorite marmalade.

Oranges in Taroncheral, Mama Ía blogOranges and lemons, Mama Ía blogFor years, during middle school and high school, our dining room table at breakfast time would become not only the family table where everyone gathered to convene before going on our way to school or to work, but also the assembly line: while my mom was in the kitchen squeezing fresh oranges for juice, one of my sisters would bring to the table a platter brimming with toast. My dad would proceed to butter them and would pass them to me to spread marmalade on all of them for everyone to enjoy. The marmalade (and the freshly squeezed juice) came from oranges from El Taroncheral, about which I have talked about before (check here and here).

Oranges in Taroncheral, Mama Ía blogOranges in Taroncheral, Mama Ía blog

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog

My mom‘s recipes for lemon marmalade and for bitter orange marmalade are a family heirloom that will be passed down through the generations. But the bitter orange marmalade recipe I’m sharing today takes in some of her tricks and tips. 

For years I brought jars of bitter orange marmalade from my mom’s house. Nowadays, my sister Marta has taken on the tradition and I still bring jars of marmalade in my suitcase, this time plum marmalade, her specialty, also made with plums from EL Taroncheral (you can read about that here). 

Finding bitter orange marmalade where I live is not easy, and when I find it, I pay premium dollars for it. My breakfast wouldn’t be the same without it, so for the longest time, I’ve complied. I simply didn’t think I would get the same flavor I remembered from home if I made my own with oranges from the supermarket.

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog
Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBut when I couldn’t find my favorite bitter orange marmalade at the usual places, I knew I had to try to make my own, even if it would never match my mom’s. Who would have told me that with my mom’s tricks and tips, my bitter orange marmalade would be so good! I’m never buying it at the store again —that’s how good! 

Now, you see I’ve been calling it marmalade all along, and you may ask, is this different from jam? While jam and marmalade are cousins and they both include large quantities of sugar and some water, there are slight differences between them. 

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog

Some facts you may not know about fruit preserves —jams, marmalades and jellies:

Marmalade refers mostly to preserves made with citrus. It includes the whole fruit, either cut in pieces or blended, and it thickens with the help of the natural pectin found in the fruit and more specifically in the seeds of the citrus. 

Jams are also made with cut up pieces of fruit, but in this case, only the pulp is used, and artificial pectin can be added to thicken it. 

Jelly is made only with the fruit juice. Again, some thickening agents like added pectin are needed to achieve the right consistency. Because it has no pulp or rind, jelly is more transparent. 

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogMy recipe is the all natural one, the one that uses the natural pectine found in the seeds. But it adds a variant: I remove and discard the white part of the peel (which lends the wrong bitterness to the marmalade) and combine the most outer peel of the fruit with its juice. 

To make it “bitter” and not just simply orange marmalade, I add  a good amount of lemons to it. The result is a bitter orange marmalade that could perfectly be called Seville orange marmalade —if it weren’t because I don’t use Seville oranges in its preparation. I wish! The addition of the lemon has that effect.

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogBitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blogVisually, because the marmalade incorporates the fruit juice instead of the cut up fruit, and eliminates the white part of the peel, the result is a more transparent marmalade, where you can see the thin strips of the rind in a jelly-like medium. 

Winter is orange season, and I miss the sight of the orange trees at El Taroncheral, its branches bent from the weight of the fruit. Eating this marmalade brings it to mind, and evokes the breakfasts of my youth. I hope you enjoy this marmalade as much as I do, as much as my dad did. 

 

Bitter orange marmalade, Mama Ía blog
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5 from 1 vote

BITTER ORANGE MARMALADE

Mermelada de naranja amarga
Author: Natacha Sanz Caballero, Mama Ía blog

Ingredients

  • 2 Lbs oranges (about 3 large oranges)
  • 1 Lb lemons (about 3 large lemons)
  • 4 cups granulated sugar (850 g)

Instructions

  • Peel the oranges and lemons almost superficially, leaving the white part of the citrus behind.
  • Half the oranges and the lemons and juice them. Save the seeds and place them in a small bowl with water.
  • Slice the peels transversally into very thin strips about 1/8 inch wide.
  • Wrap the seeds in a piece of gauze and tie it up (I used a square of surgical gauze). Reserve the water.
  • Place the peel strips, the orange and lemon juice, the gauze with the seeds and the reserved water in a casserole or a stockpot. Add 4 cups of water. Cook for 1 hour at medium heat. Remove stockpot from the heat source and let rest for 24 hours.
  • The next day, remove the seeds and discard them. Place the stockpot back on the stove at medium-low heat, add the sugar and 2 cups of water and cook, stirring every 15 minutes, for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or until the mixture thickens slightly to a consistency close to jelly (don't fret if it needs to cook longer, the important thing is it needs to reach a sirupy consistency). Remove from the heat source and let rest for about 20 minutes (the mixture will thicken further).
  • While the marmalade is cooking, sterilize the jars: place them in a stockpot tall enough to cover them completely with water. Boil the jars for 10 minutes. Carefully remove them from the pot and let dry. Next, immerse the lids in the water and boil for 10 minutes. Remove carefully and let dry.
  • Fill the jars with the marmalade and close tightly. Place the filled jars in the stockpot where you sterilized the empty jars, cover them with water, bring to a boil, lower the heat to medium-low and process for 30 minutes. Remove the stockpot from the heat source and let the jars cool down in the water until it comes down to room temperature.

Notes

  • This is a 2-day process, so the pectin in the seeds has time to do its magic
  • The marmalade will last for many months.

 

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