Recipe:Tangerine Jam
A few weeks back, I took a big jar of marmalade to Luke's birthday party as a present. His sister asked me what's the difference between marmalade and jam, and I gave an earnest answer that wasn't quite the response she was looking for. "What's the difference between marmalade and jam?," you see, was the set-up for a dirty joke, the punchline to which I couldn't possibly repeat here.
But it's still a good question.
It came up again when Emma sent me an email to thank me for the two marmalades I had given her. Emma is English and presumably knows a thing or two about real marmalade, so I had asked her for honest feedback. She obliged. First she charmed me silly with her high praise for the BLOOD ORANGE MARMALADE, but then she struggled to find something nice to say about the THREE-LEMON MARMALADE.
Emma wrote:
I must confess that I am not the best person to test a lemon preserve as I am not, on the whole, a fan of sweet lemon confections. I think someone who likes lemon tart would love this marmalade as it has a similar sweetness to it. My own personal taste buds prefer marmalade to be a little bit rude. I like marmalade to ever so slightly slap me around the face. It's a good way to wake up in the morning. Short and sharp. I would describe this preserve as nearer to 'sweet and long', which is how I like my summers and affairs, just not so much my marmalades.
Which brings me to definitions. What is the difference between a jam and a marmalade? Because if I'd thought of this as a lemon jam, I might have had a different experience.
That was the exact response I had had to the tangerine marmalade I made recently.
The Satsuma tangerines I got at Garcia Farm at the Santa Monica Farmers Market were juicy and intensely colored, and I had this vision of a fragrant jelly enlived by zippy peel. The whole thing would be made more romantic, even a touch exotic, by the addition of orange-blossom water. This last idea, such a good one, came from my friend Vishwa, whose inspiration, he said, was the Hermes fragrance Eau d'Orange Vert. (The last canning tip from Vishwa was that star anise is the secret to PICKLED BEETS, and so it is.)
Since satsuma tangerines are seedless and have such mild peels, I just cut them up and threw them in the preserving pan with sugar and some water—almost like prepping fruit for a jam. During reduction, the mixture was fragrant and lovely but didn't really behave like a marmalade so much as...a jam. And when it was done and I tasted it, the preserve was a pallid marmalade—the tangerine's fragile peel breaks apart and retains little of its oily pungency—but it was lovely as, yes, a jam.
I have agree with Emma: I want marmalade to have an eye-opening bite, while I expect a jam to give me sweet fruit flavors. The one won't satisfy if you're expecting the other.
Hence, this recipe for TANGERINE JAM, which would more properly be called TANGERINE MARMALADE since the difference between marmalade and jam is peel.
TANGERINE JAM
The honey-sweet tangerine is perhaps the least complex citrus taste, and this preserve is a bit simple, even when touched up with a drop of orange-blossom fragrance. But it's a cheery jam, and often when I'm hungry in the odd corners of the day—at 11:46 a.m., say, or 6:12 p.m—two bites of something simple and cheery is exactly what I want.
3 lbs tangerines
3 Eureka (sour) lemons
6 cups water
3 cups sugar
1/2 cup honey
1 teaspoon orange-blossom water
1 Since this preserve includes the fruit peel, try to find un-sprayed, organic (or backyard) fruit if at all possible. Also note that store-bought citrus is often coated in wax to extend shelf-life, so if that's what you're using, first rinse the fruit with boiling water to remove all traces of wax, then scrub well in cold water.
2 Prepare the tangerines as follows: without peeling the tangerines, slice the "cap" off either end, deep enough to reveal the sections beneath, and chop cap into slivers.
Cut each fruit in half, then into 1/4" slices, then into shorter segments, as shown in the photographs. Place prepared fruit to a preserving pan.
3 Prepare the lemons: peel zest with a vegetable peeler and chop zest into slivers. Carefully trim the albedo (the white pith) away from the pulp and discard. Chop the pulp into 1/4" cubes, and add it and the zest to the preserving pan.
4 Add 6 cups of water to preserving pan to barely cover fruit, bring to a boil and cook for about 15 minutes until the peel becomes transluscent and tender.
5 While it cooks, warm sugar on a baking sheet in a low (200 degree) oven. (This will help it dissolve more readily when added to the preserving pan.)
6 After 15 minutes, add warmed sugar and honey to the preserving pan, stir until compelely dissolved and return to a moderate boil. Reduce until almost all the liquid is evaporated and a teaspoon of the hot preserve holds together on a cold plate and doesn't leak at the edges. You won't get a firm set with tangerines, just a thick texture, almost like a compote.
7 Right before jarring, remove preserving pan from heat and stir in the orange-blossom water. You might add a touch more if you like, but be careful! Orange-blossom water is powerful and too much will form a suffocating blanket over the mild tangerine flavor.
8 Ladle hot preserve into jars and seal. Process in boiling-water bath for 10 minutes.
Reader Comments (5)
emma may have struggled to say something nice about your three-lemon marmalade, but it doesn't appear that she struggled to say something. eloquent indeed.
...and i'll take citrus jellied, jammed or marmaladed if you please. anyway you slice it really. ;)
I've been thinking about a similar thing: that is, some jellies I made are really more of a jam even though they are technically a jelly. It's an issue of consistency, rather than taste. I made two tangelo jellies--one with lemongrass and one with bay leaf--using apple pectin stock and unstrained tangelo juice. The consistency is exactly like jam without the fruit.
Ah, the little things I wonder about in the middle of the night.
Your tangerine jam post is so timely. My neighbor has presented me with several bags of citrus, enough for Grapefruit Marmalade with vanilla, and now Tangerine Jam. I was also planning a 3 citrus marmalade done in the “time to kill” marmalade style. Any thoughts?
Hi Andrea -- thanks for your question -- the beauty of Time to Kill marmalade is that you really can use it for any combination of citrus. The key piece of advice from Greenvalley friend and cookbook author Tom Hudgens, who taught me the technique, is to balance the sweet and sour citrus. I'd advise roughly equal parts by weight of each. And be sure to get some lemons in there for their pectin content. In fact if you're going to use a lot of tangerines in the mix, let me suggest that you collect all the seeds from your other citrus, tie them in a cheese-cloth pouch and add the pouch to the preserving pan during reduction -- the seeds provide extra pectin. good luck! all the best, kevin
Hi there,
Love to check in and see what you're up to.
I, too, went on a winter citrus blitz, although I'll admit to being a lazy fruit supremer. Blood Orange and Meyer Lemons are my favs, but this year I raided my sister's tangerine tree in So Cal. When I got home I made tangerine marmalade/jam for the first time. I'm intrigued by your orange blossom water. I also do a little baking and use an extract called Fiori Di Sicilia in my panettone. It's kind of an orange cream flavor (my husband who is a flavor chemist by trade says it's spot on to Orange Julius if you know what that is). I decided to add it and presented me with a great layer of flavor and made a kick ass marmalade/jam. I'll be raiding my sister's tree again next winter.
Look forward to seeing what you come up with next.