Jello, Jelly, Gelee

For your reading pleasure on a cold Saturday morning.  As I've posted before, Ivan Day is a culinary wizard.  Historian, teacher, television and movies; they all come to him.  If you will go to the right side of my blog, you can click on his site and read for days.  His collections of antique eating/cooking implements is museum worthy.  Type in punch bowls.  It's all great.

My personal favorite, this Macedoine.  You can see a sideways slice on his blog.

Can you imagine?  This Belgrave jelly is just wonderful and you can see the beautiful old copper mold on his blog.

An Alexander Cross Jelly.  Sigh.

Here is another Macedoine.  I wonder if I can find a lost Haribo gummy bear in my pantry.

Oh well, maybe in honor of the nonexistent snow we're supposed to have this day, I'll attempt this salad with whipped egg whites atop rosemary for snow.  I think this was an Italian salad served to the English during the Grand Tour.  Now, I know where the two hour meals came from.  It was one of the things that surprised me traveling abroad.  In the US, meals are usually not long affairs and in other countries they take a long time.  I actually got tired of eating out while abroad for that very reason.

When we stayed in The Belgravia Hotel in London, a little lady was seated next to my daughters and me.  She was a dead ringer for the Queen Mother.  My throat was raw and I spent most of the trip coughing.  I started a coughing fit over a lovely Pavlova.  I was terribly embarrassed, but couldn't do a thing about it short of the Heimlich maneuver.  I couldn't run out as there was a long hallway before you could reach the lobby.  I'll not share what happened next - TMI - but I think the Queen Mum thought I was a heathen.

Happy Saturday.  I'll do anything not to do the things I am supposed to do, like pricing antiques, harvesting lemons, cleaning the house...

Crabapples

My small crabapple tree is full of fruit again.  It doesn't fruit the same every year.  In fact, I don't think there has been a crop in two years. I tasted one this morning, but they aren't ripe enough yet; they leave a pucker, like a velvety taste from the tannin, I suppose.  

I have made jelly and the above liqueur from them.  Don't know what else to make with them.  In fact, I need to go to the garage refrigerator and look to see if I still have the liqueur from the last batch.  I don't remember even tasting or drinking it.  I'm not a drinker anyway, so it is usually given away.  I hope I haven't left the jars under a dark cabinet somewhere, steeping in grain alcohol. Now, I'm worried that I did and have to go look under cabinets.  Oh, and it's a glorious sunny day.

Strawberry Lemon Marmalade

What to do with all my citrus.  Besides juicing it, I made strawberry lemon marmalade.

Here is a small corner of my greenhouse.  Someone please stop  me.

This is about 1/4 of all my citrus.  I'm afraid I am going to burn out my electric juicer.

Blood oranges, Meyer, Etrog, Ponderosa lemons, and tangerines too.

Finally.  Need to get some English muffins as I think they would be perfect for the marmalade.

Strawberry Lemon Marmalade

1 cup thinly sliced lemon peel

2 cups lemon pulp, chopped

4 cups crushed strawberries

1 (1 1/2 oz.) powdered pectin

1 tb. lemon juice

6 cups sugar

1. Place lemon peel and pulp in a pot with just enough water to cover.  Bring to a boil and simmer 5 minutes.

2. Turn off heat. Cover and let sit for 12 - 18 hours. Drain water.

3. Combine peel and pulp, strawberries, pectin and juice in a large pot.  Bring to a boil. Add sugar, stirring until dissolved.

4. Bring to a roiling boil. Boil hard 1 minute, stirring constantly.

5. Remove from heat.  Skim foam if necessary.

6. Ladle hot marmalade into jars, leaving 1/4" headspace.

7. Makes 9 half pints.

I also made a blood orange, lemon and raspberry marmalade.  I didn't boil the pulp with the peels this time and I think it made the marmalade a tad too acidic.  It's good now though.

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU CRABAPPLES

A beautiful, fast-growing, flowering tree, the crab apple also gives you a bounty of crab apples come summer. The fruit is about quarter-sized with a crispy clean tartness, but it is definitely appley. So what do you do with a tree full of crab apples? Well, for starters, jelly.

Gather the fruit; I had about 2 1/2 gallons.

Crab apples are hard and you can't just slice them. So, how to chop? I dug out these two old kitchen tools. Notice the acorns carved on the handle on the left. The tool on the right is older, like maybe colonial days old with its kidney bean shape. Each tool has been shaped and hammered or forged. The tool on the left worked better for this job.

Well, here is the result of all that chopping, now ready to cook down to a sauce. You will have to drain the mash in a cheesecloth to get the juice, but any jam or jelly making book will instruct you how to make the jelly.

Voila! It only took several hours . . . but here is the result. I need to make some scones now to try it.

But, if that wasn't enough and you like the occasional drinky winky, I chopped some more and am making crab apple liqueur. These recipes are all over the web. The one on the left is straight vodka and the one on the right has vodka and a little brandy in it. It is fun to play around with the flavors. When I look out to the tree that is still loaded, I am thinking juice for drink concoctions or pickled crab apples, but I don't think any in my family will eat them. Oh well, it's on to the white peaches.