More Marmalade: Sevilles not required

Last weekend I knew I wanted to stay in, stay warm and potter. Hopefully you've already read the slow roast shoulder of pork that was one part of the outcome of this. If not, please do - it really was a simple, slow cooked wonder.

I found myself in that post Christmas position of having a fruit bowl with clementines, lemons, limes and oranges in. Also, randomly a grapefruit, which I don't eat, because  the fruit and juice make you metabolise medications more quickly which can a real risk with some conditions. I guess it turned up in a veg box and I hoped that inspiration would turn up for it, hence it was starting to look slightly sad in the fruit bowl. My original plan for this week just gone being that I was going to be working away all week I didn't want them to go to waste.

Post Christmas my jam cupboard was looking somewhat bare, preserves had been sent out as Secret Santa presents, gifts to my assistant Guiders and pretty much anyone else I could foist some off on! I was originally holding out for the Seville's but Mark's mum had mentioned to me a five fruit marmalade and I thought I'd give it a bash.

I didn't use a recipe as such. but used my original post on Marmalade as a guideline, ending up with gloriously rosy marmalade punctuated by the green and yellow shreds of the different fruits. It's lovely on toast, and my Great British Bake Off book has a lovely recipe for a Sticky Orange Marmalade cake that I think it would work beautifully in. I'll link back when I make that.

Fruitbowl marmalade

2lb of mixed citrus fruit - I used oranges, satsumas, limes, and a grapefruit
4lb of sugar
4 pints of water
3 lemons, juiced

You will also need:

Sterilised jam jars
Either lids or waxed discs and cellophane toppers
Heavy based pan and long handled wooden spoon
Muslin and string.
Sharp knife (I used a paring knife which was perfect for the job)

Wash your fruit.
Now cook the fruit (except the lemons) whole in 4 pints of water for 2 hours on a low heat. This softens everything and gives you your liquid for later (you need at least 2 pints left at the end of the cooking time, so top it up as necessary).
Take your oranges off the heat, and out of the pan using a slotted spoon or similar, and pop them on a chopping board. Quarter them as this will cool them down faster.

Take out the pips and pop these in a saucer or dish - you'll need them later

Scrape out the flesh from each quarter and pop that in the pan you're going to cook the jam in
Then really really finely (unless you like chunky marmalade of course) shred the skin. Because you've cooked the oranges this is much much easier than it would be otherwise, but it's still fiddly and takes a while. I have to admit my fruit is a bit randomly shredded as one arm is still in plaster.

You need to do this to all the oranges. Yes, all of them. Time to start up http://broadwayworld.com/radio.cfm

Ok, so the oranges and the flesh is all in the preserving pan. Add 2 pints of the water from the water you used to cook the oranges in (you can top it up if you've not got enough) and bring to a boil. You do need some extra pectin and for this I just added the lemon juice, I left out the pips as I completely forgot about them.

Add the sugar - just granulated is fine.

Put an old saucer or little plate in the fridge now
Put the pan on the heat and bring to the boil whilst stirring. You want a rolling boil - biggish bubbles that pop on the surface.

Continue to cook whilst it bubbles, stirring all the while until it 'flakes' This took about 40 minutes in total, although I tested after half an hour despite knowing it was still too light in colour, but not wanting to wreck it I thought I should check.  Depending on the fruit you use, it will be faster or slower - If I remember rightly the Seville Orange and Whiskey marmalade only took about 20 minutes.

Once it's done this, take a teaspoonful or so and put it on your saucer that's been in the fridge. You want after a minute or so, the top to wrinkle as you run your finger over it but the underneath to be jam like in consistency.

While all of this is going on, sterilse your jars by washing them in hot soapy water and then drying in a low oven. Fill them with the marmalade and when slightly cooler, add lids or waxed circles and damp cellophane.

Mine is unlabelled as yet (I'm embarrased about my handwriting because of my broken wrist) but be sure to label it with the date, year and what it is.

I find that I always have a tiny bit left over that I pop in a ramekin and eat on toast over the coming days (keep it in the fridge).  If I know if it's sharp or sweet or how it tastes I'm going to be able to give it to the right recipient - or keep it for myself.

There you have it, one Saturday afternoon happily spent preserving in the warm. Result, jars of Fruit bowl marmalade in my jam cupboard.

You put the lime in the coconut... or cake: Lime Drizzle cake

As regular readers will know I have the innate ability to fangirl; Idina Menzel (should I ever brave a stage door after she performs), Michael Crawford - I actually spoke to him, and of course Jonathan Groff (although that's less fangirling, and more just friends chatting about Mary Poppins). I feel a little like recent posts are tending towards the fangirly of Vanessa Kimbell. Her book Prepped is beautiful, and recently she's provided me with inspiration for the Guides through her Random Bakes of Kindness, and now a drizzle cake, that she posted on her blog in response to my request for a recipe I could amend to a lime drizzle one last weekend.

As I may have mentioned whilst normal, sane people spent last weekend in the sunshine, getting their last dose of vitamin D - Louise and I were in the kitchen baking. After our epic work on the Christmas cake fruit we began two cakes, a lime drizzle and a chocolate beetroot cake. As my first random bake of kindness I gave Louise half of each, and Mark ate a lot of the rest.

My request was in order to use up some limes I had bought when reduced, thinking that my Worldfusion Taste team challenges would require them, as it was I hadn't felt the need to add extra zing to any of the meals so far so they were lingering in the fruit bowl and starting to look a little sad. Vanessa's recipe was a Tangerine and cardamom cake, but I replaced the tangerine with lime and omitted the cardomom - after much sniffing of the jar and trying to work out if it went with the fresh lime. Our conclusino was no, but I am inclined to try it just to see.

Vanessa's recipe is here but this is what I did with the limes...

Lime sponge

Finely grated zest of 2 limes

200g unsalted butter, cubed and softened


200g caster sugar

3 medium eggs
175g self-raising flour
25g cornflour

Lime syrup

Zest and juice of 2 limes

5 tbs caster sugar

1 Preheat the oven to 180°C, gas mark 4. I used the fan in my oven as I don't know how to turn it off(!)

2 Grease a 20cm, round, loose bottomed cake tin and line with baking parchment.
3. Place the sugar, softened butter and lime zest in a mixing bowl and beat with a wooden spoon or an electric hand mixer The result should be pale in color, with a really light and fluffy texture. I hadn't thought of adding the zest to this stage of the mix previously, but the vigourous mixing releases the oils from the zest into the mix thus making the final sponge much more limey.
4. Add the beaten egg,
5. Sift and fold in the flour, the mixture is thicker than a regular sponge batter, but this is what you want for the end result.
6. Spoon the mixture into your prepared tin and bake for 35–45 minutes until it is shrinking away from the side. Test it with a skewer to see if the mixture is cooked in the centre; it should come out clean or with crumbs, not with any mixture. Remove from the oven and, if it is done, prick all over with a cocktail stick about 20 times.

As an aside, this week Dan Lepard had tweeted about taking cakes out a little earlier than usual as they continue cooking in the tin from the residual heat - I tried it out with this, taking it out after 35 minutes and the sponge was lovely and soft. It was a complete fail with the beetroot chocolate one though so the jury is still out on that one - in this house at least.

7 Squeeze both limes and pour the juice into a small saucepan, 5/6 tablespoons of caster sugar. Heat and stir for about a minute until dissolved.  A bit like in preserving, you can hear and feel when the sugar is dissolved so don't worry about sugar thermometers.

8. Leave to cool, then drizzle the syrup over the cake, slowly, waiting a few moments before adding more, so that it all sinks in. It should leave a crust on the cake as the juices sink in.
9. Wait until completely cooled, then remove from the tin and transfer to a wire rack.

This cake is lovely, perfect with a cup of tea, and sturdy enough to accompany a packed lunch. Flavour-wise the freshness of the limes contrasts beautifully with the gentle sponge, and the sharpness of the pockets of syrup and sweetness of the crust juxtapose with the soft, dense cake beneath. This is definitely one of those cakes which improves the day after baking.

I would also say don't overestimate just how easy this cake is to make, it's quick and a really straightforward bake. Don't be put off by the use of sugar syrup it's so easy and goes down really well, I imagine it would be perfect if you need to take a cake into work - I'm already planning on making it again to take into Poole this week to thank someone for doing an enourmous amount of photocopying for me.