The WI - Brixton Contingent

At the grand old age of 24, it appears that I am nesting. This has manifested itself in an obsession with preserves. Having never made one before, naturally I opted for marmalade - the most difficult recipe I could find. My one stroke of genius was enlisting my mother, who supervised the sterilisation of jars, stopped me eating melted sugar that was hotter than the sun, and also read all the boring (but it turns out essential) bits in the recipe about pith and pectin and whatnot.

I have documented our journey.

The aforementioned reading of pitch and pectin.

This came after the boring bit of juicing and chopping. Much more fun with a gin and tonic, we discovered. The weird sack thing is a muslin cloth full of pith and pips - all the pectin is in there and that apparently is what makes the marmalade set, and stops it just being hot juice.

Sterilised jars - so as not to contaminate marmalade with germs and poison my nearest and dearest. That is not what the WI intended.

After two hours of fruit boiling, FINALLY it is time to add the 2kg of sugar. This was an exciting moment.
Cindy squeezing out the pectin, ready to whisk into the marmalade mixture. Definitely best to get an adult to do this bit.

Marmalade bonding.
Marmalade hijinks. Direct result of sugar consumption

This is the bit where you bring the mixture to a fast boil for 15 minutes and try not to stir it. It is by this point angry and bubbly and almost impossible not to touch. I burnt my tongue twice.

Three hours and a truckload of sugar later - time to test for set!! (that's official jam chat for is it ready yet).

Yes. That's a funnel. This is serious stuff.

The finished product! It would be fair to say I'm a little smug.