The strangest things make me nostalgic and return to my childhood, so strong is the imprint of an object, sound or fragrance. In this case it is not just the aroma of Seville oranges as I juice, de-membrane, slice, and boil to make marmalade, it is the pan itself.

I always smile when  I get this old work horse out, it must be at least 80 years old. It reminds me so clearly of the day my Father set fire to the kitchen when we lived in Anna Valley, in itself not funny, but hits my irony funny bone every time as he constantly admonished me ' Will you be careful!' at the time.

Before that momentous event however, it had belonged to my paternal Grandma, Mabel Green as she was, although in the photo below I think she may have still been Mabel Mitchell.  She was an accomplished pianist, and taught others to play for a living.  She was a frugal women,  born in times of austerity in the First World War, lived through the depression of the 1930s, and then raised four children during World War II, my father included.  I know she bottled and preserved a lot, my Grandfather ran two allotments, and nothing, but nothing ever went to waste!

My paternal Grandmother

The pan reminds me of days, and sometimes weeks in the school holidays from boarding school, sitting in the kitchen with her, helping her prepare various preserves to go in the pan. Sometimes followed by a treat, like making coconut pyramids for tea; perfectly formed cones created in a special Tala mould just for the job, and then topped with half a glace cherry.  Sometimes I might earn one for walking Shandy the dog, or for helping my Aunty Jill, who still lived at home and was just 12 years my senior cut out book covers she hoarded from the Library at Loughborough Uni, to make this vast collage all over her bedroom walls.

Sometimes we would load up my Aunt's Mini, taking a picnic of home made preserves and bread sandwiches, a slab of cake or maybe something more dainty, and Shandy the dog. We would head for Charnwood Forest and roam for miles, marvelling at bizarre fossils in rocky outcrops, or scrambling up trees or rolling in huge piles of leaves, ending up smelling musty and mushroomy, and of the earth.

These memories are very precious and make me smile and long for simpler times.

Enough of that - here is the recipe if you would like to make your own marmalade.

Seville Orange Marmalade

3lbs Seville Oranges, washed.

Juice of 2 lemons.

6 pints of water

6lbs of sugar.

Method

Halve  oranges and squeeze out all the juice and pips. Tie the pips, and any bits of membrane or pith that come away in a muslin square. Tie the muslin to make a secure bag.

Slice the orange peel according  to your preferences for chunky, medium or fine rinded marmalade and place in a preserving pan along with the water and the orange juice. Add the muslin bag.

Bring to the boil and then simmer gently for 2 hours until the peel is soft and the liquid in the pan has reduced by about half.

Remove the muslin bag.

Add the sugar and heat gently until all the sugar has dissolved. Then bring to a rapid boil and cook for about 15 minutes.

Test for the  a  set and once the setting point has been reached, take the pa off the heat and remove any scum from the surface of the marmlade.

Leave to stand for at least 15 minutes, as this will help the peel to distribute evenly throughout the preserve.

Then stir gently to distribute the peel and pot and cover in hot sterile jars. Makes about 10lbs.