With little crates of clementines left over from the holidays and more showing up at the grocery by the truckload every week, I decided to spend half a case on experiments this week. The house smells like Valencia with all the citrus in the air and the cats have retreated to the less aromatic parts of the back room until I get this temporary citrus madness out of my system.
Clementines showed up at the turn of the last century when clever growers decided to cross Mandarin and ‘regular’ oranges to make cute little fruit that had some of the desirable qualities of each. They’re popular because they’re much easier to peel than most citrus and, when grown properly, seedless. Here I get both Spanish and Moroccan versions popping up in the fruit stalls and while they’ve all snuck in a seed from time to time, I find the former to be more reliably seed-free. All clementines can produce seeds if allowed to cross-pollinate but careful growers can prevent this from happening in the groves. On the open market of course the seedless versions are more prized so if you see discount clementines at a price too good to be true, you’ve probably found a lot that didn’t pass seedless quality control. Luckily, seeds or not, the flavour won’t be effected in my experience. You’ll just want to dodge a few pips as necessary.
This week’s first trial was fairly predictable. I’ve made my own marmalade for ages. Especially when I can get proper Seville oranges that is but even pedestrian “navel” oranges will work in a pinch. Sevilles offer just the right amount of tart and bitter for most people and recipes for classic versions abound online. Up here in snowy Canada however, you can’t always find a stack of Sevilles when the jar runs empty over morning toast. I’ve meant to try other citrus for quite a while so the clementines were in the right place at the right time. They need lemon to bring the sour notes up a few octaves but otherwise work a treat to my taste buds. With only four ingredients and less than fifteen minutes hands-on effort, how can you possibly buy ready made? I’m a marmalade purist but experimental sorts can try any manner of additions like grapefruit, cardamom, or even chile.
Clementine Marmalade
350 g (~ 5 medium) whole clementines
Juice and zest from one lemon
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
400 g white sugar
Yield: Roughly two cups of marmalade
Wash and scrub the clementines well under running warm water. Remove any stems then cut in half horizontally to remove any seeds. Conserve any juices to add later.
In a food processor fitted with a large grating attachment, process the cleaned clementine halves one at a time. Check for any large pieces of peel that slip past the blade and chop finely by hand as needed. You can also hand cut the entire batch to fine shreds with enough patience and a freshly sharpened knife.
To a saucepan over medium heat, add the processed clementines, lemon, salt, and any remaining juices. Add water to almost cover and bring to a low simmer for twenty minutes stirring often. Add the sugar and simmer a further twenty to forty minutes until a spoonful sets loosely when put onto a well chilled test plate (or use science and just cook to 105C, 220F). Pour into a sterilized glass jar and allow to cool completely on the counter before closing with a plastic lid and refrigerating. Will keep chilled for up to two months worth of toast.
The second experiment of the week I’ve also had on my radar for some time. In a fit of kitchen synchronicity, Felicity Cloake from the Guardian this week shared her sticky orange cake recipe loaded as always with good research and ideas. I was literally boiling clementines already when I saw her article pop up so I took it as a sign to finish testing my own version of a dense citrus cake. I’ve made Nigella Lawson’s infinitely popular and insanely simple clementine cake before (boil clementines, whirr with ground almonds, eggs, sugar, and bake) but I’ve wanted to replace the almonds with corn meal, commonly labelled as “polenta” in many parts of the globe, for some time to see if I could make it work. Almonds aren’t particularly cheap here and I never seem to have any in the cupboard when I need them. A touch of oil in the mix seems to do just as good a job as the nuts in the finished texture which, fair warning, is heavy and substantial by design. Serve small slices with generous cups of tea I say. Experiments with a thinned syrup for soaking after baking were interesting (cardamom, maple, etc.) but not necessary at all since this is packed tight with clementine flavour. If you simply can’t control your orange urges, gild the citrus lily with a small spoonful of the marmalade you just made on top of the still warm cake.
Crème fraîche, clotted cream, or similar is a pleasant addition, especially if you accidentally bake the cake too long and end up with something closer to dry clementine cornbread as I did in the first test run. Watch carefully in the last minutes of baking to get it right.
I tried versions with baking powder and small amounts of flour but found they added more cake-like texture than I wanted in a delightfully dense corn cake. The eggs and cornstarch hold the cake together well enough and this way your gluten-scared friends can enjoy a piece with you.
Cornmeal Clementine Cake
350 g (~ 5 medium) whole clementines
60 ml (~ 1/4 cup) vegetable oil
1 teaspoon fine sea salt
2 tablespoons corn starch
4 extra large eggs from happy chickens
275 g white sugar
200 g fine corn meal (aka fine grind polenta)
Crème fraîche sweetened with honey or maple for serving (optional)
Yield: One nine-inch cake just in time for tea
In a medium saucepan, add the well-washed whole clementines peel and all with enough water to cover (float) by a few inches. Bring to a rolling boil then immediately reduce the heat to a very low simmer and cover. Cook for two hours then carefully remove from the water to cool completely.
Preheat the oven to 175C (350F). Prepare a nine-inch spring form pan with a round of baking parchment on the bottom, oiling or buttering the sides and parchment well.
Remove any stems from the cooled clementines and, over a work bowl to catch the juices, cut each clementine in half to remove any seeds. Add the cleaned halves and any juice to a food processor fitted with a standard blade and process to a fine consistency, about a minute. Add each of the remaining ingredients pulsing briefly between each addition to combine well. Pour into the prepared pan and bake for 30-40 minutes just until set where a skewer inserted comes out mostly clean of crumbs, about 93C (200F) internal temperature, being careful not to over bake to dry. Remove from the pan rim and allow to cool on a rack at least ten minutes.
Serve while still warm or cool completely. Top with crème fraîche that you’ve stirred with spoonfuls of honey or maple as desired. Pots of Assam are nearly mandatory since this is a very dense mouthful.
