At last, Seville oranges have appeared in the shops, which means it is time for marmalade making.
Bob is the marmalade maker around here. Each January he tries to make enough Seville marmalade to last us through the year. You can make marmalade from other kinds of oranges, of course – or combinations of orange, grapefruit, lime etc – but nothing quite matches the fresh wake-me-up tang of Seville oranges.
Our method begins with boiling the whole oranges for two hours. Surprisingly, the oranges don’t distingegrate during this long boiling process, but instead acquire a luscious pillowy texture. They are heavy, hot, fragant and dense, fascinatingly squashy to the touch. I love this stage and am rather sorry when it has to give way to meticulous chopping before the next and crucial stage of being boiled with sugar at high temperature.
Yesterday as I contemplated the boiled oranges resting in a bowl (see photo), I found myself thinking about stages of preparation – not just of marmalade making, but of unrelated things like getting a piece of music ready for performance. Some of the earlier stages, like imagining what could be done with the music and trying different ways of doing it, are quite lovely but are never witnessed by anyone (except the cat).
Obviously the player has to keep in mind a finished product (the marmalade) and work towards it, but it is a pity sometimes to lose touch with the piece in its embryonic form – round and full of potential, fun to put your hands on, not yet finely chopped and turned into a glossy presentable product.
Verdi lamented finishing ‘Otello’ and spoke of the characters no longer visiting him in his workroom. I think this is one reason why some artists lose interest in their work when is complete and rarely look at it again – for them the reality has in some sense gone.
Very good point, thank you James
Well, if Bob puts as much care and attentiveness into his marmalade-making as he did into my supervisions years ago, the finished marmalade must be very wonderful, well worth any sacrifice of the embryonic form. Miaou! (PS. Do oranges really have embryos?)
Thank you Rob for your kind comment about those supervisions. The marmalade maestro was very touched!
Is there any truth in the rumour that Prokofiev was making marmalade while composing L’amour des trois oranges?
Or did I dream that?
Three-fruit marmalade, perhaps, Eric!