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

Double Batch Navel Orange Marmalade

Well, I did it. I finally made some marmalade. You see, last year I went a little overboard with the citrus, and I still have it hanging around even though I try determinedly to use it up. So, this year I disallowed myself shipments of expensive fruit, and instead enjoyed some calamondins sent to me from my mother. She also sent me some Florida sour oranges, which I haven't gotten around to using yet. But the other day I saw a pretty bag of organic navel oranges at the store and my compulsions got the better of me. That four pounds of fruit yielded almost a case of marmalade, and that's plenty for my household, including gift giving. 

This recipe is pretty easy, even though it takes three days. I'm not going to say I'm a marmalade expert; go visit Hitchhiking to Heaven for that. This is a homey kind of marmalade. I always used to be scared of doing two batches at once, but it's really very easy. What's nicest about it is that you can have two different flavors. I had been eyeing this King's Ginger liqueur for a while for a marmalade, and who isn't a sucker for a creamsicle?

Double Batch Navel Orange Marmalade
(yields about 10-12 eight-ounce jars)

Day One:

4 pounds of organic navel oranges, gently scrubbed and rinsed

The oranges should be in the fridge, maybe overnight, so that when you work with them they are chilled. I use my food processor for slicing the oranges.  Although many may scorn my callous handling of the mighty orange, it's a technique not to be overlooked. I do believe hand cutting is superior, but the food processor takes no time at all, and is uniformly thin. In the case of navels, or clementines, which generally don't have seeds, it's quite helpful. With seedy fruit, you can halve them, remove the seeds, and then slice. I like to cut off the ends, quarter the fruit vertically, and neatly process them "standing up" so that the orange slices are (for the most part) perfect pie shapes.

Put the slices in a large ceramic bowl, and cover with water. I used 7 cups of water. You want to fruit to be comfortable to swim around. I used a bit less than normal, because I like a firmer marmalade. Let the mixture sit over night, not refrigerated, with a piece of wax paper over it.

Day Two:

The next day, put the oranges and water in your jam pot, bring to a simmer until the peel is soft. Mine took no time at all. Put it back in the bowl (or leave it in the pot if you prefer) and cover, leaving again until the next day.

Day Three:


Divide the mixture into two different batches. Don't make it one batch, you'll be bummed because it'll take forever. Really, it's not recommended. Mine yielded two batches of orange slices and water that were six cups each.

Add 4 cups of sugar to each batch. For my two batches this is what I added:

The King's Ginger Marm: 


2 tablespoons of lemon juice
1 teaspoon of peeled, grated ginger
1/4 cup of The King's Ginger Liqueur (not to be added until the very end)

Creamsicle Marmalade:


2 tablespoons of lemon juice
1 tablespoon of vanilla extract (though I'm sure a vanilla bean would be exemplary--I didn't have any on hand)

Bring each mixture to a boil and let it cook for about 30 to 40 minutes, which depends on everything from the weather, your preferred brand of sugar or to the pot you used. I like a firm marmalade, so I let it go to the sheeting stage, but you may want to pull it earlier. I like to add my booze just as the gel stage is reached. I pour it in, turn off the heat, and gently stir while it simmers down.

Ladle into eight ounce jars, and process for ten minutes in a boiling water bath.

An antique Fire King sugar bowl is my refrigerator jam pot.

Meyer Lemon Marmalade Shortbread

Sunny day via Meyer lemon marmalade shortbread.

You know, I really meant to start the new year off by not posting so many sweet baked goods, but it's winter and there's just no way around it. Add to that the meat curing that will be going on here this year, and this will make a very unbalanced blog indeed. I assure you that I do eat some brown rice and vegetables from time to time.

I got bit by the citrus bug a little later than last year's obsession. I think it just clamped down on me last week. Last week I made candied citrus peels, blood orange-clementine-quince marmalade, and I haven't even used up last year's Meyer lemon marmalade. These Meyer lemons were sent to me from Shae from Hitchhiking to Heaven. She makes the best Meyer lemon marmalade I've ever had, and her recipe is in her eBook. I made a big batch and still had a huge pint left that I never canned in the fridge. So, I have been experimenting. And this has been the best experiment so far. And the easiest.

I can eat way too many of these.

 Meyer Lemon Marmalade Shortbread

1 1/2 sticks of butter
1/4 cup confectioner's sugar
1/4 cup of sugar
1/4 teaspoon of salt

1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour

1/4 cup of Meyer lemon marmalade (or any other marmalade would work)

Process first four ingredients until creamed in food. Add  flour and pulse so dough comes together a bit; it will still be grainy. Dump it out into a square un-greased pan (8x8), pat it into the pan and smooth it out, then prick with a fork. Bake for about thirty minutes at 300 degrees. At this point the edges should be just starting to get golden, and the top should be firm. Gently smooth the marmalade on the surface. Return the pan to the oven and bake for ten more minutes. Let cool in pan. You could dust it with powdered sugar, but I liked the sunny yellow color. We have enough snow here!

What the reality is. Still tasty, but a little colder.

A Winner and Thanksgiving Pregame

We have a winner of the eBook Hitchhiking to Heaven Prizewinning Recipes 2010! But once again, alas, I have no way to contact this fine person. Will Mary Ann please step forward to claim this prize? She mentioned an amazing preserve called Fire and Ice Jelly that I wanted to contact her about even before I randomly generated her as the winner. That just sounded stellar to me. Please do check back to the comments on the giveaway; I asked people to discuss their favorite jams. There are some mouth-watering responses there! Thank you to everyone who participated!

So, onward ho! Being that this post is about the winner of Shae's eBook, I figured I'd talk about a special jam discovery that involves Shae and her passion for fruit. She spends some time up in Alaska (beautiful post on that here) and while she was there this summer she picked loads of lingonberries, also known as low-bush cranberries. Being the superlative person she is, she sent me a ziploc bag of them. Now do you know anyone who would do that for you? I was so happy! I made some jam of it that was, to be honest, nothing to write home about. It was delish but set a bit firm. My fault, not knowing the lingonberry well enough to be finely attuned to it's quick jelling characteristics. I did, however, hoarder that I am, stow a small bag of them in my freezer. I took a small bit out the other day to make some jelly, which calls for cooking the berries to extract the juice for the jelly, leaving the pulp.

Long story longer, I was making turkey drumsticks to get ready for Thanksgiving. You have to have a bit of turkey before it all comes down, don't you agree? So, while I had this turkey burnishing and some squash roasting, I realized I needed some cranberry sauce. That pulp would be perfect, I thought. But how to dress it up? I went down into my vaults and saw that I had some clementine marmalade left from last winter (which is initially how I met Shae, by the way). I dumped the marmalade into the pulp and made the most gorgeous lingonberry-clementine sauce I've ever had. Truly. It is incroyable!

My point being that if you add a jar of marmalade to some cooked cranberries, you may find a wonderful new friend to invite to your Thanksgiving Day dinner! And yet another way to use up those jars you've been collecting all year.

eBook Giveaway: Hitchhiking to Heaven Prizewinning Recipes 2010

There’s a really nice story that I like to remind myself of whenever I wonder why I write this blog. My virtual existential angst usually dissipates when I remember it. Basically, it’s a story about how I have met some incredible people that I probably would have never otherwise met. Like Shae.

It’s nice to know that there’s someone out there who wants to hear you expound on the crisis of a ruined batch of jam. It seems petty or ridiculous, but crap, if you had just let it go for a few more minutes the gel would have set so much better, and jeez, should I reprocess it? Or just call it syrup? Or that someone is totally with you when you gleefully make a new jelly that is just stellar. You just know it is. It’s amazing! Shae cares. Really!

You've probably been to Hitchhiking to Heaven, Shae’s blog. Did you seen all the amazing jam-making resources she has on her sidebar? Did you know how detailed and top-notch every recipe is? (She even has a post to help you find other words than amazing to use!) She is so detailed and thorough. It’s actually generous. So, when I saw her new e-book sitting in my gmail inbox, Hitchhiking to Heaven Prizewinning Recipes 2010, I knew it would be more than just recipes. I am always amazed by her tenacity to make a recipe over and over to get it just perfect. I am the complete and total opposite. I'm not apologizing, but it's true. When you use follow one of Shae's recipes, you can be sure of it. And you can be sure it's going to be delicious.

Case in point: Meyer lemon marmalade. When I tasted her marmalade it was so transcendent that I flew back in time to a seven-years-old me in Los Angeles tasting my aunt’s fresh from the tree Meyer lemonade. The marmalade was so bright and fresh, the sugar never cloying, the gel perfect and soft, just barely holding together the thinly sliced rinds.

If you don't believe me you can ask the Marin County Fair judges. These are prizewinning jams! The Meyer lemon marmalade is in the eBook, among other delicious ones, and loads of wonderfully helpful information. Luckily for me, and you, I get to give away a copy of Shae’s eBook! So: leave me a comment below and tell me what your favorite jam or jelly is, and why it’s transcendent for you. I really, really want to know! And I really really want one of you to win this great little collection of amazing recipes and thoughtful, artful, humorous commentary. You have until next week: Wednesday, November 10 by midnight EST. Go!

Marmalade Quick Bread

When March rolls around and buttermilk goes on sale I always get it. I bake a lot with yogurt, because I always have it on hand for so many uses. I've really got to start making my own. Buttermilk is a little less useful in my household. I hate that I can't drink it straight, for example, but I think some people can or do. Which is repulsive, personally. It's also somewhat expensive, comparatively. But I do love baking with it. So, I've been fiddling around with a few recipes and also keeping in mind the many jars of jelly in the fridge that I have to use in some way. In that spirit, I made Marmalade Bread.

The marmalade I had on deck was a tangerine microwaved version with vanilla that had set a little too firm, and the chunks of peel were like soft candy. I warmed it up a bit so it would mix well in this batter. The resulting bread was a gorgeous yellow, flecked with orange bits and vanilla flecks. It is a lightly sweet bread, fluffy and soft, and perfect for a mid-morning snack. The recipe has only two tablespoons of sugar in it, plus the jam. I didn't feel too bad having a second slice! And either did the baby.

Preheat to 375. Grease a square 8x8 pan.

1 2/3 all purpose flour

2 T sugar

1 t baking powder

1/2 t baking soda

1/2 t salt

1 egg

2/3 cup buttermilk

1/4 cup light olive oil

1/2 to 3/4 cup of jam or marmalade

Mix wet and add to dry. Batter will be sticky. Bake for thirty minutes or until golden brown.

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:

Tangerine Marmalade

I couldn't resist making the microwaved tangerine marmalade recipe from Put Up or Shut Up. I have bowls of citrus everywhere in the house because I love how it looks this time of year. But also because I have plans for each and every one of them. The few tangerines I had around were destined for this small batch recipe. I can't believe that this took all of twenty minutes to make. I'm a believer.

Some of the things I chose to do with this recipe:

I didn't process them, deciding instead to keep them in the fridge.

I didn't peel the tangerines, just sliced off the ends, halved them to remove the pits, and quartered them to prep for the food processor.

I used vanilla instead of rum and nutmeg. But this recipe is so easy you could make it every week and continuously change the flavorings.

My yield was 1 1/2 pints.

After the second cooking with the saran wrap removed, I decided to put the mixture in for a few more minutes as suggested. However, I did it for five minutes, leaving me with a very thick jam. More candied fruit than jelly. Which is totally fine but next time I would probably do just a minute or two and not five. Just like she suggests. I just didn't listen.

I would bet this would work with any citrus. It was really such a treat to make this as the baby napped, while still leaving time for cleaning and writing, too. And it's really a ray of sunshine during these spectacularly cold and dismal days of winter.

Clementine Marmalade

Yesterday was all about orange. It started when we took an early spin to the Apple Bin to pick up a squash. I chose this very heavy Marina di Chioggia. It asked me to make it into soup. I obliged. Once home I roasted it, and once it cooled down I began to harvest it's velvety orange flesh---making sure not to lose a bit of it. You have to be careful with bumpy-skinned squash, all the best flavor is in the greenish layer next to the skin. I kid you not. It's where all the nuttiness is. I was eating while working, and so was baby Z in his highchair, mushing that goodness on his tray. I have never loved squash like this. I mean, I was just eating it as I went. That's really nothing I've ever done before. I am a convert. I saved all the seeds with hopes for next year's garden. It yielded so much! I made a huge batch of squash soup with broth, onion, salt and pepper. Instead of using my regular stock, I finally made turkey pho, using this recipe which is ingenious and highly recommended, especially for squash soup. I must have at least four cups left to eat and perchance to freeze.

I wasn't even going to talk about the soup, but what a fine specimen of vegetable. I couldn't let it go unnoticed. However, the real excitement was Clementine Marmalade. It is so beautifully golden orange and deliciously bitter sweet, I will have to make scones very soon so I can eat it. And it is so incredibly festive for this time of year. Did I just say that? That sounded a little contrived, but I really mean it. Seeing boxes of clementines in the store is a marker of the season. Making clementine marmalade wasn't as hard as it seems, it just takes a long time. That's all I have these days, so a bowl of them fell in for the cause. I used a Christine Ferber recipe of the same name.

Basically, you finely slice up the fruit--which I could have done a better job at, to be honest, and better results might have been reached if I knew about chilling the clementines first, which helps firm them up (also works for other things like cookie dough and meats, as you well may know). Sometimes you know about a trick but forget to apply them to the job at hand. You add sugar and lemon juice to the fruit, bring to a boil then remove to a bowl in the fridge overnight. Do it again the next day. On the third day you add apple jelly stock you made (I used a mixture of half crabapple and half earl grey tea jelly), bring to the jelling point and then can. I processed for ten minutes. If anyone wants this recipe, leave me a comment or e-mail me and I will gladly type it up. As it stands, I am in the middle of granola baking and candy making and present wrapping and it's all starting to blur a little. I did follow the recipe for Clementine Marmalade from Christine Ferber's book Mes Confitures, so you can check that out. Anyone clamoring to make this just might have that book already!

Okay, I've got the time so here's the recipe:

1 3/4 pounds or 800 grams of clementines

3 1/4 cups or 700 grams of sugar

Juice of two small lemons (I used two tablespoons of juice)

1 3/4 cup Green Apple Jelly (This is your added pectin. I used a mix of Stayman Winesap Jelly and Earl Grey Tea Jelly, that I made, leftovers in the fridge. If you don't have some jelly lying around, which you just may not, then I'm sure you could buy some...)

Clean your thin-skinned clementines. Chill them for a bit so they get firm. Then cut them into very thin slices. Remove the seeds. Cut the rounds into quarters. Combine the clementines, sugar and lemon juice in a heavy pan. Bring to a simmer. Remove mixture from the pot into a bowl, cover with parchment paper and refrigerate overnight.

On the next day, bring it to a boil again and remove it again, to sit overnight in the fridge.

On the third day, pour mixture in your heavy pot, add the apple jelly and bring to a boil, stirring gently. Skim, continue to cook on high for about 5 or 10 minutes. Check that you have reached the jelling point (220 degrees). Ladle the hot marmalade into hot half-pint jars. Process for ten minutes. Yields four half-pints.

See the note below in the comments section that recommends only letting the mixture sit for one night. I trust this advice. Also, if you are looking for a super easy tangerine marmalade that could easily use clementines instead, see this microwaved tangerine marmalade I made.