Citrus Cleaner

The only large parcel of citrus I ordered this year were two big boxes of sour oranges from my mother's neighbor's tree. After juicing them all, I froze the juice for later use in the summer when porch-side cocktails are in order. I find that this method keeps the citrus flavor a little fresher, but I still stand by my sour mix! After making more candied citrus peels than should be normal, I still had a large amount of peels left over. Rather than compost them right away, I squished them into two half-gallon jars and covered them with white vinegar. They sat for a month, and just the other day I drained the bright gold liquid off into one of the jars. It was very concentrated, so I then filled the jar with more white vinegar. Now I have sour orange vinegar, which I certainly could use for some interesting pickles or dressings, but what I intended for them was household cleaner. There's a strange sort of pride in making a cleaner that you could cook with!

I usually fill a spray bottle halfway with vinegar, then add water and a drop or two with dishwashing soap. That's it. But now when I'm cleaning, it will smell slightly of Florida, which is just what you need in the tail-end of winter.

Do you use homemade cleaners in your home? What do you make/use?

Meyer Lemons & Rangpur Limes

I really lucked out this year. Even though I swore I wouldn't do citrus, it nonetheless found it's way to me. It's good to have friends in citrusy places is all I can say. One of the really special things I got this year was a shipment of rangpur limes from Shae, at Hitchhiking to Heaven. She talks about them here, and has a few recipes up, like this gorgeous looking Rangpur Lime Jam. I also got a bunch of Meyer lemons through some charitable folks I'll call enablers. This is what I made with all that goodness.

Meyer Lemons:


I made lemon Curd using this amazing new (to me, at least) technique that is brilliant. This recipe is from Elinor Klivans from Fine Cooking, and what's different about it is that you blend the ingredients first, and then heat them up. Please check it out. It was the most perfect lemon curd I've ever made. And the easiest.

I also made this gorgeous Tartine Bakery's Lemon Cream that Sara from Three Clever Sisters told me about. Food52's Kristen Miglore goes into the details of this delightful, velvety yet light as air cream. It was so much fun to make, and I really thought I messed it up until the end. I never really believe things are going to emulsify, you know? But then they do! I ate it just like pudding, and I think that's just fine (salute to Kristen). (Not lemons or limes, but pure genius, make sure you check out this chocolate mousse that Miglore discusses!)

I was all gung ho to make a Meyer lemon syrup and can it. Well, let me tell you that the subtle sunny notes that makes a Meyer a Meyer does not want to be contained in a syrup that sits on the shelf. Or at least that's how I felt. It was my technique of heating the juice that ruined it's delicate bouquet. Use the rangpur lime syrup recipe below, and I can assure you a better product. Just stick it in the fridge, stick it in the fridge. You'll drink it pretty fast anyways. To be fair, this still makes a fine lemonade base. Next time I'll just stick with the regular kinds of lemons.

[For those interested: take two cups sugar and two cups water, bring to a boil and make sure the sugar is dissolved. Add two cups of fresh lemon juice, bring back to a boil. Ladle into sterlized jars and process for ten minutes in a boiling water bath.]

I love this link I found 100 things to do with a meyer lemon by Amy Scattergood from the LA Times. Number 83 was discussed a bit. So, when I started looking into that, I wondered what about a whole lemon, not just the peels. Which made me start researching this Japanese treat called simply "honey lemon slices." Seems like a popular manga character really likes them. I never really found out what they were, but I sliced a Meyer lemon and a few rangpur limes and tucked them neatly in their separate half-pint jars. Then I covered them with nice local honey. They've been in the fridge for a while steeping. I'm not quite sure what to do with them, honestly, but I am guessing in a week or two the slices will sink nicely in a drink, and the honey will do nicely with some seltzer.

That wormhole led me to make this very strange pickled lemon recipe. I am not sure I like it, but it might just work in a margarita. What doesn't? It's sort of like preserved lemon, so I guess it can't be that bad, right? I'm not in love with it. Yet. Please note: I made a super small batch of this. This recipe is for an army's worth of pickled lemon. I'm not sure who needs that. But I could be wrong.

Rangpur Limes:

The antithesis to my Meyer lime syrup. I made a rangpur lime syrup, and I never want to live without it again. But I will, sadly. I made a simple syrup with 1 cup of sugar and 1 cup of water, that I brought to a simmer to make sure the sugar was dissolved. Then, once it cooled a touch, I added one cup of rangpur lime juice. Did I mention that rangpur limes are heaven with gin? Oops. Maybe I said that already. Have you tried Tanqueray Rangpur? I haven't. (Hint, hint, Tanqueray publicity!)

Well, I can't wait all day for Tanqueray's people to send me a bottle, so I made my own. It's more of a liqueur, similar to a calamondin gin that I made. I can't get enough of that stuff! I quartered about 8 rangpur limes, enough to fill a quart jar, added a cup of sugar, and filled to the top with gin (I used Gordon's). It will sit for a month, agitated every day, until it becomes my drink of choice. I know it's going to be off the hook. Until then I'm having No. 3 Gin with a shot of rangpur syrup, topped with seltzer. Heaven!

You have to make Hungry Tigress' North Indian Lime Pickle. I've never had them with regular limes, so I don't know how that tastes. I'm sure amazing. So, with Rangpur limes, think double triple billion amazing. I am a total wimp, so I followed her directions for not adding cayenne, and upping the sugar. Yeah, I know, I'm lame, but believe me these pickles are still awesome. This is the kind of pickle that is beguiling. One that makes your mouth pucker, salivary glands wake up even when they are behind you, and you can't even see them. That's where they are right now, and I just got up to smell them. Ahhhh.

Autumn Makes and Does made this pretty little rangpur lime marmalade, and when I made it, it came out perfectly. It's a gorgeous marmalade in petite ratio, and her recipe totally made me feel okay about making it. I didn't want a huge batch. I ended up with three quarter pints, and one fridge container. Treasure!

Really? Rangpur lime shooters? I didn't make them, but wasn't sure whether this was totally right or totally wrong. But truth be told, I would not turn one down!

I'm adding these two treats to the list for the next time the rangpur lime fairy strikes:

Rangpur Lime Curd Bars from Apt. 2B Baking Co.

Anonymous Citrus (or, most probably Rangpur Lime) and Chile Pâté de Fruit from Tug's Girl

Candied Calamondins

I recently got an amazing package in the mail from my mother. It was filled with calamondins: leetle, teeny, tiny oranges with a super sour bite. They can be found, on a bush or small tree, in the tropical south zones. Originally from Southeast Asia, they have been planted here as an ornamental, but you know me, I'm wanna eat it! I received about five pounds (me to my mom after she sent me a small handful to inspect: "No, that's not enough, I need more"). So far I've started calamondins in gin, and salt-preserved calamondins. As it so often goes during this time of year, I'm a little marmaladed out. I was wracking my mind for something new. After paging through a million books, I settled on this recipe for Kumquat Preserves from this kooky book:

You probably have a stack of vintage cookbooks like these, right? I particularly like the ones that have canning sections even though you are not to follow them for canning, as they are outdated and possibly unsafe, as per USDA and the National Center for Home Food Preservation. However, my personal guidelines for these recipes are that usually fruit is a safe bet. I do my research, I compare recipes, I check the sugar, etc. I decided to can these at ten minutes. They are so high in acid, and the only other ingredients are sugar and honey, that I felt it was safe to can. But that's me. I'm crazy like that.

It is said that calamondins can be used in recipes like kumquats, but I don't know about that. Calamondins have very thin skin and are very juicy and filled with sort of big pits. More like a really small tangerine. I love these old recipes. They take a little while to decipher. Just a small paragraph and you're on your own. Which I like. I will note that I almost didn't add the 2 cups of honey the original asked for. 2 cups of sugar and 2 cups of honey seemed like a lot to me. Then I realized that the honey is the glucose that keeps the sugar from crystallizing, so I quickly threw in a 1/4 cup of honey. It seems to have worked, but maybe I'm making that up. 

I am really looking forward to these as a garnish for a drink, come the warmer weather. They are certainly candied yet very tart. Maybe with that calamondin gin I'm making. And don't forget about the nice syrup you get as a extra bonus! The most brilliant idea I came across for calamondins is to freeze them and use them as ice cubes. Maybe I can get my mom to send me some more...

Candied Calamondins

adapted from My Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook, 1940

Note: this is a three day or so procedure.

1 quart of calamondins

1 quart of water

2 cups of sugar

1/4 cup of honey

Calamondins, when plucked from the plant, will rip the stem right out of the skin. When you pick them you might want to use clippers or shears so that they stay intact until you need to use them. Otherwise, they shrivel up, and who wants that? When you are ready to use them, pull the stems gently out. You will have a small hole where each stem was. Perfect. If you were preparing kumquats, you would prick the skins. This is so they can absorb the sugar.

Soak the fruit overnight in salt water. 1 quart of water, 1 quart of fruit, 1 teaspoon of salt. Why? I don't know. Maybe you can tell me. I was skeptical, but strangely I did it.

Drain them. Cover with fresh water in a preserving pot and bring to a boil. Cook until tender. Which was a few minutes. These are very thin-skinned fruit. Drain.

Have this heating up in another good preserving pot: 2 cups of sugar, 4 cups of water, 1/4 cup of honey. Once this is simmering, add the drained, tenderly boiled fruit in. Simmer until the fruits look translucent, and the syrup is thick. (When did we stop spelling syrup sirup?) Pour this mixture into a glass bowl and cover with wax paper.

Let stand for two days. 

Bring back to a simmer for ten minutes and cook until it looks right. For me that meant thick syrup, candied fruits. I ladled the calamondins into hot 4 ounce jars and processed in a boiling water bath for ten minutes. If you prefer, pour the whole lot into a quart jar, seal it. When it's cool put it in the fridge. They will probably last until you have a nice cocktail party. And then they will be gone!

For more a-quat-ic inspiration go check out Michael's candied mandarinquats and Tigress' fermented sweet preserved kumquats!

Mixed Citrus Marmalade

Please make the spring come early this year. Please? It's been so cold, and we had a crummy summer, so I really think we deserve it. Why is it still only January, for crying out loud??

Okay, sorry about that. I should shut up because today it was almost sixty degrees out. But you couldn't really tell with the torrential rain and gale force winds out there. But, I will say this: all the snow is gone! Now it's some dull green and loads of mud, which I am happy to see. I'll get sick of it in a bit and wish for some snow to cover it all up, but for now, I'm nearly (dis)content.

This is what forced me to be a crazy lady and make some marmalade. I saw a bag of mixed citrus on sale for 99 cents (isn't it funny how keyboards don't have the cents sign anymore? Is it now some ancient heiroglyph that only oldsters like me can understand it?). So I turned it into this very delicious marmalade using a recipe for tangerine marmalade from one of my favorite blogs, Doris and Jilly Cook. Simple, to the point, great technique and the yield was huge. Love that.

My added tip in the hat? Or tip of the hat? Whatever. Anyways, you know how you can use the food processor for chopping up your citrus saving you loads of time? I love that. But, and this might be obvious for some, but for me it was a revelation: you can use your slicer attachment to thinly slice the fruit up. Instead of the pebbly rind you get with the chopper blades, you get nice thin perfect shreds. Just remember to refrigerate your fruit over night before hand, so they slice up nice.

Here's a crappy picture to illustrate my revelation:

Tangelo Lemongrass Jelly

I sit down to write this first entry in the Tigress' Can Jam with an appropriate drink in hand to cheer all my fellow canners. A friend gave me a sweet little pint jar filled with a gin, clementine, kumquat, cardamom and peppercorn cordial. Perfect on ice with a splash of seltzer, I thought it would be a great souse for tonight's post. The amount of response to this endeavor is astounding, and I'm so glad to be a part of it! So cheers!

On to the meat of the matter. My subject: tangelos, which are a cross between a tangerine and either a pomelo or grapefruit. They yield a great deal of juice. I'm a little marmaladed out, so I thought jelly was my ticket. When I saw some huge, local granny smith apples, I knew I was in business. The lemongrass I spotted just sweetened the deal.

4 lbs. granny smith apples (the tarter the better)

Quarter these and put them in a large heavy pan. Cover with 7 cups of water. Bring to a boil, lower heat and simmer for about thirty minutes. Apples should be very soft. Strain the juice once in a large mesh. Then do a finer strain. I like to line some cheesecloth over my strainer. Let this drain slowly overnight in the fridge.

Tip: Pass your cooked apples through a food mill. Makes excellent applesauce! Sweeten and spice if you want, or leave it au naturale.

2 1/2 pounds of tangelos

Juice these, reserving the seeds, to measure 2 cups of juice.

Tip: Save the rinds for candied citrus peels. Put them in the freezer in a ziploc until you get a pound of them. I also scraped the flesh from the rind and the pile I had was so juicy that I put it all in a pot and simmered it with 1/2 cup of juice, 1/2 cup of water, 1 1/2 cups of sugar, 1/2 vanilla bean, and made a great syrup.

Put 2 cups of your apple extraction and 2 cups of the tangelo juice into your preserving pan along with 3 cups of sugar. Add 2 tablespoons of lemon juice. Bring to a boil. While this is reaching a boil, bruise one stalk of lemongrass with a rolling pin and chop it coarsely. Add it to the mixture, along with the reserved citrus seeds. (You could put these in a cheesecloth pouch--I chose to let it loose. See note below.) Bring this to the jelling point, can and process for ten minutes.

Notes: This is probably one of my favorite jellies to date, and I've been on a little bit of a jelly tear. It's perfectly jelled for my tastes, and has a consistency like a good marmalade without the rinds (or bitterness). The lemongrass is not overpowering at all, but does give the citrusy goodness a goose. Be careful with chopping the lemongrass--I did it too fine and had to strain the jelly before canning it and besides being a pain, it slowed what should be a quick transition. And I should note that lemongrass is hard and not what you want on your toast, so don't leave it in. However, this jelly was so tasty that I saved all the foam I pulled off the mixture, along with all the strained lemongrass and seeds because I couldn't bear to throw it out. I thought it would make a nice glaze on some duck breast.