There are things that it may be better to do alone (although to be honest I can't think of any, or maybe cuddling the cat, so to have him all for yourself? But even in this case there's room for discussion...), and others for which it is best to have a co-pilot. Going to the amusement park, crying over a broken love affair, playing darts or hide and seek, eating a fiorentina steak or making a toast to the new year: these are all experiences that call for a navigator. Call it what you want, strolling buddy, coffee break friend, or co-pilot, his job remains the same. He is the one who cushions your falls, doubles the fun, and endorses the emotions; a happiness amplifier and a compass to not get lost, depending on needs and circumstances.
Making jam is one of them, a ritual so nostalgic, sleek and intoxicating that having a co-pilot becomes essential. To make jam you need a ladle companion, a friend with the easy smile who keeps track of how many times you've blanched the peels, or turns the spoon for you when you need a break for the usual photo; one that is moved as much as you when the house is filled with dense, tart and sweet aromas, and that while waiting for his turn just sits listening in silence, but with the heart always on alert. The co-pilot may not be an expert in jam, but if it is too bitter he'll tell you loud and clear and perhaps in exchange he'll offer a soft candy or a jar of roasted hazelnuts.
The orange marmalade co-pilot is also who tastes it with you, the next day, on a slice of toast for breakfast, watching the snow and dreaming of spring; or who gives you a recipe like this to share its bittersweet magic. An unexpected friend, found after years wandering around familiar paths, one of those who could teach you again how to ride a bike and whom you could count on for a spare battery. With him you can run on the grass screaming your favorite song out of tune, or lie down and watch the clouds breathing clean air in silence; he is made for walking together on winter afternoons, and then returning home to share jars and recipes with no fear of having done something wrong.
for 4 jars
organic oranges 1,500 gr
honey (orange blossom, acacia, millefiori)
750 gr
honey (orange blossom, acacia, millefiori)
750 gr
With a potato peeler or a sharp knife, remove the outer part of the orange rind, leaving out the white portion. Cut into thin slices and blanch in boiling water for 10 min. Drain and repeat two more times, always changing the water.
Peel the oranges to the flesh, remove seeds and thin membrane and cut them into pieces. Cook for about 10 minutes in a large pot, and then add the softened rinds and honey. Cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, until jam reaches the desired consistency. Pour it in glass jars and sterilize them as usual.
Before even finishing typing the recipe and definitely before publishing it into the world, I spountaneously hand myself over to the vegan police and confess my crime. For those who don't know, honey is not vegan, and I commit sin, BIG TIME! But since the world began, every rule has its exception, and my vegan world - for now - has three. One of these is called honey, the other two - for now - I'll leave it to you to guess.
And finally, badabum badabum, I inform you with great pleasure that this recipe marks the beginning of my collaboration with the magazine NB - Nero su Bianco, a monthly publication of news, culture and opinions directly from that beautiful town of mine, wedged between rose mountains, shooting stars and endless skies, queen of hearts Cortina d'Ampezzo.
If you're not shy, I leave you the link and my blessing to take a look at their facebook page. I like!
