Like Money for Jam...

... or marmalade in this case. There is a small problem with having fruit in the house, or to be more specific, there is a problem with having fruit that seems to breed indiscriminately and with little or no concern as to what I am supposed to do with their offspring. I mean really... I'm not running a charity here. There are bills to be paid and fruit bowls don't wash themselves! Why, just the other day I caught the banana's - who are normally quite well behaved - having a disagreement with a lemon over space. It was most unfortunate and really quite unpleasant. I don't think I shall view a banana as innocent ever again. At any rate, I came into the kitchen today to discover that the fruit bowl had been taken over in a kumquat coup and the little blighters were everywhere! Worst of all, at least one of them was totally infested with mould and was valiantly attempting to infect everyone in his way... Of course, he suffered a rather unfortunate and not so sticky end... but this is a family friendly blog, so we won't get into the details. Of course, one down and several dozen more to go... what was I going to do with them all. Heaven knows, if you leave them unattended, they breed like rabbits (which reminds me... I must find out where the first breeding pair came from... hmmm).

So. Not much option then but to commit mass kumquat genocide! So into the kitchen I went, suitably armed with a new favourite knife of mine (a gift from my original and continuing cooking inspiration... My Dad!) and a chopping board. As you can see, I'd already been hard at work by the time I decided to take some pics. At this point it's only fair to say that this was a traumatic event for Miss Twinset who blathered something about killing unborn fruit before she popped an olive in a martini glass and retreated to her corner of the kitchen. Apparently, senseless brining (is that a word?) of olives is ok... as is turning helpless olives into hapless alcoholics. What? Oh... The other one is pointing out that considering how quickly Miss Twinset goes through her drinks, the olives don't really suffer for long. True. Anyway...

At this point in time, I feel it's only fair to point out that I was taking these pics on my cellphone. Great phone. (expletive deleted) camera. However, desperate times call for desperate measures and the battery charger fairies had the day off... Shrug. As you can imagine, the sight of these poor quartered bodies just about pushed Miss Twinset over the edge, even as she reached for a fresh slice of lemon garnish... apparently, there are different standards of cruelty when it involves alcohol.
So, having quartered all the kumquats, it was time to weigh them. This involved much negotiation on my part as it proved very difficult to get some of the more self-conscious kumquats onto the scale. Really, you only weigh 6g? I think not. Even quartered you weigh 10g easily! So... why was it important to weigh them? Well... it's so that I'll know just how much to sweeten them up later when it's time to add the sugar. Shock horror... imagine how much you'll weigh when I add your body weight in sugar :-) "Thud"... whadya know... kumquats faint! Who'd've thunk it :-)

From the scale to the pot... not much respite from doom and impending disaster there. I think we're on our second bottle of gin and I'm certainly not cooking with it. I told her to leave if it upsets her so, but she sniffed delicately into her lace trimmed hanky (seriously? lace trimmed?) and said that it was best for her education in the art of cooking and preserving if she stayed. So I told her that was fine, but to stop sobbing dramatically. These kumquats died bravely to be reborn into something far more useful. (Even if they didn't get a vote).

So, as evidenced by the glorious amounts of steam, the next step is to cover the chopped (ok, massacred) kumquats with enough water and then heat them to boiling point and allow them to simmer until the rinds are soft. I also added 3/4 of an orange and the juice of a second orange. No... they do not scream when boiled. As you've already pointed out, they're dead :-) Sheesh. Get past it already.

Ok, when the rinds are nice and soft and there is no chance that a talented horticulturalist could revive them, you need to remove the pot from the heat and stir in the sugar. In this case, there was about 350g of fruit (pre the late addition of the oranges), so I added 370g of sugar. Now stir the sugar in until you have a nice smooth syrup before returning the pot to the heat. As I explained to the other one... if you don't do that, then all you have is lumpy, warm, kumquat juice. Perhaps even sweet, unless you get bitter kumquats like mine... perhaps they were government employee's or stuck in a dead end 9 - 5... who knows. I can only guess that self-fulfilled kumquats would have been sweeter... Actually, self-fulfilled kumquats wouldn't have been squatting in my fruit bowl planning a hostile take-over!

Eventually, with a bit of patience, you will notice that the mixture has thickened and changed colour. The liquid is now far more syrupy than before (no, that is NOT a problem... that is what is supposed to happen). You will see that there is some "foam" on the top of the syrup... this you can remove easily by skimming a spoon across the surface of the liquid. Carefully! Hot syrup burns are NOT fun. No, I didn't burn myself, but the other one decided that she wanted a taste... her tongue is the size of an egg, but at least it's quiet around here (apart from the faint sound of ice clinking in a shaker).

Test the syrup to see when it starts to set when cooled. This is also easy, just take a spoon and drop some into a glass of cold water or onto a clean, cool plate. If it forms balls (in the water) or sets (on the plate), then you know that you're about there. Of course, if you have a sugar thermometer, then you just need to know what temp you're looking for :-) No... a meat thermometer won't work. That is for sticking in meat, not hot syrup. Sigh. Anyway - when it's done, then heat up your jars (so they don't crack) and then fill them with the marmalade.

Alright, if you're a marmalade purist, then you're no doubt looking at the not very good (ok, very bad) picture of the final product and have probably made a note of the extremely dark colour of the syrup. Now, I'd like to pretend that this is a result of the camera, but I fear that Miss Twinset may well hack my blog in her drunken state (she's remarkably computer literate, but only when totally smashed) and spill the beans on me! You see, I had to change the laundry in the dryer and in those few minutes, the last remaining vestige of disgruntled kumquat turned the tables on me and the syrup went from nearly perfect to burnt! Oh well... There are a lot of oranges lurking and I'm still in a murderous state of mind... so you never know what will happen next :-)

Until next time...