# The bitter lemon winter

> In February the kitchen smells of one thing only. Tom on why the marmalade is made with lemons, cut thick and cooked slow.

Tom Achebe, 2026-02-18 · https://parcel.themes.dev/journal/the-bitter-lemon-winter/

Most marmalade is made with Seville oranges, and so was ours, until the winter of 2020 when the oranges didn’t arrive. A lorry broke down somewhere between Valencia and Calais, and by the time the replacement came the fruit was soft and the price had doubled. I had two hundred jars to fill and a kitchen that was already set up. A neighbour had a lemon tree against a south wall, and she handed me a crate over the fence and said, take them, they’re too bitter to eat.

They were. They also made the best marmalade I had ever cooked, and we haven’t gone back.

## What makes it bitter

The lemons we use are an old variety with a thick, knobbly skin and a lot of pith. The pith holds the bitterness and the pectin, and the pectin sets the marmalade. Bitter fruit is a good fruit for preserving, because it gives you the set without adding any, and the bitterness gives the sweetness something to push against. Without it, marmalade is just jam with peel in it.

The fruit comes from three gardens in the valley, mostly in January, and by February I have about sixty kilos in the kitchen. They get washed and halved. I squeeze out the juice, scrape out the pips and wrap them in muslin, since the pips are where the best pectin is. Then I slice the peel by hand into strips about the width of a pencil. It takes an afternoon and it is the part of the job that matters most. If the peel is cut thin it disappears in the pan. If it is cut thick, it stays in the jar as a proper piece of fruit with something to chew.

## The long boil

The peel simmers in water for two hours until you can crush a strip between your finger and thumb. Then the sugar goes in, the same weight as the fruit, no more, and the pan comes up to a rolling boil for about twenty minutes. We make it in batches of eight jars, in a wide copper pan, because a wide pan loses water faster and gets to the setting point before the colour turns brown.

You find the setting point with a cold saucer. Put a spoonful on a plate that has been in the freezer, wait a minute, and push it with a finger. If the surface wrinkles, it’s ready. I do this every four minutes for the last ten, and it is the only moment in the process that requires any nerve.

The jars are filled hot, sealed and turned upside down for ten minutes. The smell lasts about a week. By the end of February the front steps of the old dairy are covered in jars cooling in the cold air.

## On toast

Eat it on buttered toast, obviously. But it also goes well with a sharp cheese, glazed on a ham, or stirred into a spoon of yoghurt. A teaspoon in a vinaigrette is surprisingly good.

Our marmalade is dark gold, loosely set, and properly bitter. If you like the sweet kind, this may not be for you.
