experi-mental

Inspired by Sue's post, I managed to get my grubby mitts on a couple of bags of Seville oranges this morning.  This was from a greengrocers, where I was quizzed at the till as to whether or not I intended to make marmalade with them.  I got the distinct impression that had I said no I would not have been allowed to buy them.  So I bit back the reply I wanted to give about a new-found hobby juggling knives and citrus fruits, and handed over £3, already doubting the wisdom of my purchase.
 
I could buy two jars of proper marmalade for that and do away with the annoyance of hours of boiling and steamy windows.  I hate steamy windows.  I think this shuddering dread is leftover from my childhood when the kitchen was always steamed up, smelly and simmering with the bile of my mother's hatred of cooking.

Sue used Delia's recipe, which I took a look at and then plumped for my WI book of preserves just for ease of having it open on the kitchen side while I toil.  Then I discovered I needed a lemon.

Tits.

Unbelievably the local corner shop had lemons in stock.  Then when I got back I discovered I needed two lemons.

Jaysus, the air was blue.  On again with the coat and one ill-tempered stomp up the road later, I was raring to go.

I have the preserving pan, the muslin, the wax discs - oh yes.

Then I went off piste.

I looked at my teetering pile of fruit and my pathetic not-up-to-the-job lemon squeezer and decided instantly that I couldn't face squeezing all them fruits and then finely chopping the rind with my blunt knife, so I have done something which may turn out later to be a Very Bad Thing.

I chucked the lot in the juicer.

Zut alors.

It's one of those juicers that sucks every last bit of moisture out of your fruit and veg and leaves you with a pile of dry fuzz to fertilize your roses or whatnot.  I have placed as much as will fit of the dry fuzz into the muslin and tied it to the handle of the pan.  I have a ever-increasing feeling of dread that boiling up a vat of what is essentially orange juice cannot lead to anything good.

I will report back on the outcome of today's experiment, which I sincerely hope will be over before Mark comes home and sees what I have done.

This should be good.