It’s a lazy woman’s marmalade made in the microwave. I was late in the picking of the Mock Saville and they’ve become a trifle dry and papery. Some were lost to our resident possum but I rescued a few kilos.
These giant globes bear no resemblance to their nuggety bitter cousins. They are sour, for sure, and bitter too and they set into jam in record time. They claim the same ancestry, Citrus x aurantium but are of a different cultivar. Some would call it an improvement but only marmalade makers know that the increase in size and the smoothing of its skin exacted a cost in flavour and fragrance.
Still, no one complained as I had blessed the marmalade with a sprinkle of cognac.
I am clearing my cupboard full of mugs so I use them as containers for the jam to give away to friends. Some returned them empty – were they hoping for a refill?