They're here. You can't miss them. Or at least you shouldn't. Somewhere among all the muddy roots and leafy kale at your greengrocer, look out for the boxes heaped high with glorious, knobbly, thick-skinned oranges shining brightly in the winter gloom. Not just any oranges. Seville oranges.
As distinct from a regular orange as a tangerine or pomelo, these highly aromatic, bumpy-skinned wonders originated in China and India more than 3,000 years ago – their Indian name is "narayam", which means "perfume within". They were brought to Europe by Arab traders and groves of them were established in Andalucia, most notably around Seville, hence their name.
In this country we were familiar with bitter oranges (Citrus aurantium) long before their less bracing, sweet counterparts (C. sinensis) came along. And it's easy to understand why, historically, they became associated with opulence, wealth, even sexiness (Nell Gwyn, anyone? Or, indeed, everyone?). Appearing in the middle of our grey, northern winters, when all around is dull and cold, they stand out, unmissable, edible baubles.
Recipes for puddings, sauces and preserves made with Seville oranges go back many centuries, butit was ahappy accident of inclement weather and thrift that brought about their finest commercial hour. A ship carrying a cargo of Seville oranges was forced to shelter from astorm in the harbour at Dundee. Alocal grocer, one James Keiller, bought up the fruit cheaply and his wife, Janet, taking advantage of aready supply of sugar from her husband's shop, turned them into marmalade. By 1797, the family had opened the first marmalade factory, and that city's long association with the famous preserve began.
The Scots didn't invent marmalade, though. The Portuguese word for quince, marmelo, gave its name to marmelada, a thick, sweet quince paste. In Tudor England, "marmalades" were made from all kinds of fruit, from pears to plums and gooseberries. By the 18th century, softer orange marmalades were being made in Scotland's private houses, and this led to the modern incarnation of this favoured fruity treat. Rather than serving it as a sweet ending to a meal, they served it at breakfast, like jam. To this day, it remains an invigorating way to start the day, its combination of sweet and tart kick-starting the tastebuds and lifting the mood over the morning papers.
I do hope you'll make your own batch of marmalade this year (see recipe), but the fragrant, puckering juice is also an interesting replacement for lemon or lime juice in marinades and dressings, particularly in those to accompany rich meats such as duck. You can even use the juice in ceviche, where the fruit's acidity will "cook" and flavour the fish. And don't waste the peel – pare strips of zest from the flesh, thread together and hang in a dry place. Add a strip to bouquet garni to lend depth of flavour to rich beef stews.
So do grab a few kilos of Seville oranges while you can, because their season is short. Even if you don't have time to make marmalade right now, these oranges freeze quite well, so you can rustle up a batch whenever suits. Seek out organic, unsprayed fruit, if you can. If you can't find it near you, both Abel & Cole and Riverford sell the fruit mail-order, so you have no excuse not to pucker up and get preserving.
Seville orange meringue pie
A tasty twist on a favourite pud. Save the skins of the squeezed oranges – freeze them and use them in a batch of marmalade. Serves six to eight.
For the pastry
225g plain flour
25g icing sugar
Pinch of salt
150g chilled butter, cut into cubes
1 egg yolk
3 tbsp iced water
For the filling
About 8 Seville oranges, enough for 400ml of juice, strained
Finely grated zest of 1 navel orange
75g cornflour, sifted
4 egg yolks
250g caster sugar
For the meringue
4 egg whites, at room temperature
220g caster sugar
Heat the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6. To make the pastry, sift the flour, sugar and salt into a large bowland, using your fingertips, rubin the butter until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Whisk the egg yolk with the water, reserve a little to glaze the bottom ofthe blind-baked shell, and cut therest into the flour mixture with aknife until you have a dough. Knead very gently until smooth, patinto a disc, wrap in cling-film and chill for 30 minutes. (Or use afood processor, but be careful not to over-process the dough.)
On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the pastry and use to line a 25cm loose-bottomed tart tin, letting any excess pastry hang over the sides. Prick the pastry lightly all over with a fork, line with greaseproof paper, fill with baking beans and place on a baking sheet. Bake blind for 12 minutes. Remove the greaseproof paper, brush the bottom of the tart with the egg wash and return to the oven until the pastry is cooked and slightly golden, about another eight minutes. Lower the oven heat to 150C/300F/gas mark 2.
While the shell is cooking, make the filling. Pour the orange juice, zest and cornflour into a bowl, and whisk until smooth. Bring 250ml water to a boil, then pour in the juice mixture. Simmer gently, stirring constantly, until it thickens. In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and sugar, and stir into thethickened orange juice. Bring back to a simmer, whisking until it begins to bubble, remove from the heat and pour into the tart shell.
To make the meringue, whisk the egg whites in a large, scrupulously clean bowl until they form stiff peaks. Gradually add the sugar, atablespoon at a time, whisking well after each addition, until the mixture is stiff and glossy. Spoon the meringue over the top of the orange tart filling and swirl into peaks with a fork. Bake for about anhour, until the meringue is crisp on the outside and soft in the middle. Serve warm or cold.
Seville orange curd
An easy, tangy curd that's as delicious spread on toast as it is spread thickly in the middle of a Victoria sandwich. Makes about three 240ml jars.
200ml Seville orange juice (ie from about 3 oranges), strained
Finely grated zest of 1 unwaxed navel orange
125g unsalted butter
400g granulated sugar
2 whole eggs plus 2 yolks, well beaten
Put the juice, zest, butter and sugar in a double boiler or a heatproof bowl over a pan of just-simmering water. As soon as the butter has melted, and the mixture is hot and glossy, pour in the beaten eggs through a sieve and whisk with a balloon whisk. Stir the mixture over a gentle heat until it's thick enough to coat the back of a spoon, about 12-15 minutes – a sugar thermometer should read 82-84C . Pour immediately into warm, sterilised jars and seal. Use within three or four weeks, and keep in the fridge once opened..
Seville orange marmalade
This is my friend Pam Corbin's recipe for classic marmalade from River Cottage Handbook No 2: Preserves. If you want to add whisky, brandy or Cointreau, stir in about 50ml just before putting the marmalade into jars. Makes five to six 450g jars.
1kg Seville oranges
75ml lemon juice
2kg demerara sugar
Scrub the oranges, remove the buttons at the top of the fruit, then cut them in half. Squeeze out the juice and reserve. With a sharp knife, slice the peel, pith and all, into thin, medium or chunky strips, depending on your preference. Gather up the seeds and tie them in a square of muslin. Put the peel and pip bag into a bowl with the orange juice, cover with 2.5 litres of water and leave to soak overnight, or for up to 24 hours.
Transfer the lot to a preserving pan or large saucepan, bring to a boil, then simmer slowly, partially covered, until the peel is tender – this should take about two hours, by which time the contents of the pan will have reduced by about a third. Remove and discard the bag of pips.
If you don't have a sugar thermometer, put a saucer in the freezer to chill. Add the lemon juice and sugar to the pan, and stir over a low heat until the sugar has dissolved. Raise the heat and bring to a rolling boil. Boil rapidly until the setting point isreached, after about 25 minutes – asugar thermometer should read 104C or a dollop of marmalade dropped on to the chilled saucer should wrinkle when pushed with your finger. Remove from the heat, leave to cool for eight to 10 minutes (a little longer if the peel is very chunky), then stir gently to disperse any scum. Pour into warm, sterilised jars and seal immediately.
