
Photo by Cynthia Hochswender
There’s an apocryphal story about marmalade that says the sugary citrus jam got its name from Mary, Queen of Scots (the famous Mary from the 1500s, who was a cousin to Queen Elizabeth). Supposedly, the future queen was ill and her grandmother’s cook, who had a large supply of citrus fruit on hand, was trying to find something to tempt her to eat.
“Marie est malade,” he kept muttering in French (Mary is ill) as he tried out confections, ending up with the one that became known as “marmalade.”
The name actually comes from the Portuguese word for quince, which was originally the fruit used to make marmalade.
Over the centuries, what we have come to know as marmalade is usually made from citrus fruit, particularly oranges.
There is no realistic way to make it seem like marmalade is healthy, other than that it’s made from the peels and juice of citrus fruit (which are healthy, especially now, in the middle of winter). But like all fruit preserves, marmalade is made with a lot of sugar.
So, healthwise it’s hard to recommend marmalade. But in the COVID-19 quarantine world, if we all began baking bread last spring, then why not continue to entertain ourselves in quarantine by learning to make fruit preserves, which go so nicely with bread? And since it’s winter, the fruit in greatest abundance is citrus.
Worth the effort
Making marmalade is a lot of work, perhaps more than the average fruit preserve; but the color and flavor can definitely brighten up a gray winter morning and give you a reason to get out of bed.
For Christmas, my friend in Seattle gave me a copy of a book by a local chef (Yossy Arefi) called “Sweeter off the Vine.” It’s divided by seasons and many of the winter recipes involve citrus; and for some reason the marmalade recipe really reached out to me.
I made a batch. I wouldn’t do it every week, but it’s delicious and I recommend it if you have several hours to devote to lavishing attention on a few pounds of citrus.
The recipe calls for blood oranges and Meyer lemons, which I found at a Trader Joe store last week. You can use any citrus, even clementines or grapefruit. The blood oranges of course add spectacular color; and the Meyer lemons (which you can often find at Stop & Shop in North Canaan at a reasonable price) have a much softer, thinner skin that’s easier to work with. Whichever fruit you use, the thinner the skin and the plumper the fruit, the easier and more delicious your marmalade will be.
Not sugar-free
This recipe calls for 2 pounds or about nine blood oranges; 1 pound or about four Meyer lemons; one regular lemon; and 5 cups of sugar (yes, it’s a lot).
You’ll note that you don’t need to use pectin in this recipe, but you will want to get citrus fruit that has seeds in it (the pectin is in the seeds).
This will make lot of jam, so you’ll want to use canning jars with fresh sealing lids to preserve it. I use the 4-pint Ball jar known as the 125. I filled about six of them, and had about 2 cups of jam left to put in a regular jar that I did not “preserve.”
Before you get going on the fruit, either clean the jars in your dishwasher so they’re hot and sterile or boil them for 10 minutes.
You’ll need a very large, clean pot for boiling the jars after they’ve been filled; a clean funnel; some paper towels; and if possible a pair of canning tongs to lift the jars.
The tedious preparation of the fruit
Scrub your fruit and then use a juicer to get all the juice and most of the membrane out of the fruit.
Toss out the membrane but keep all the seeds.
Save the juice, of course.
After juicing, you should have a couple dozen half rounds of citrus. I cut each half round into three pieces and then used a sharp knife to carefully slice away the bitter white pith on the inside of the peel.
It’s tedious but necessary; do it while you listen to a podcast or watch a movie. The less bitter, spongy pith on your peel, the better your marmalade will taste.
The next step is equally tedious: You need to take your scraped peels and slice them as thin as possible, as thin as blades of grass or hay. Don’t worry about the length; long strands are actually kind of pretty.
Boil the rinds
If you have an InstantPot, now is the time to get it out: You need to boil the peel strips in 2 quarts of water (8 cups) until they’re tender and almost translucent — which can take up to an hour if you do it on your stovetop.
If you have an InstantPot, combine the water and peels and cook them on high pressure for 10 minutes, then quick release the pressure. If you don’t, use a large nonreactive pot and boil them lightly until they’re ready. You’ll need about 3/4 cup of the cooking liquid, so keep an eye on the pot and make sure you don’t boil away all the liquid. That’s one advantage of the InstantPot: Your liquid won’t boil away.
When they’re tender and almost translucent, rinse the peels in cool water to stop them from cooking any more.
At this point your jars should be clean and hot and ready to take out of the dishwasher; put them on a cookie sheet and put them in a 200 degree oven, so they’re warm when the jam is ready: If you put hot jam in a cool jar, the glass will crack.
The next two steps have to be done on the stovetop. First, take your giant pot and fill it with enough that your jars will be submerged. Start it boiling so it’s ready for canning as soon as the marmalade is done cooking. Once it’s boiling, reduce it to a simmer.
In a large pot that has a ceramic or other nonreactive surface, combine the citrus peels, the citrus juice (from way back in step one), the sugar, the citrus seeds (tie them up tightly in cheesecloth) and 3/4 cup of the cooking liquid.
Bring it all to a rolling boil (very big bubbles but not foaming) and keep cooking for about 30 minutes. At this moment, it’s great to have a cooking thermometer, to check when it reaches 220 degrees.
If you don’t have a thermometer, put some spoons in your freezer and then test a spoonful of marmalade at a time by putting it in the freezer for a few minutes to see if it gels up. I don’t personally find this method works very well but …
In which we say ‘carefully’ again and again
Once your marmalade is done, turn off the stove and take your tray of canning jars out of the oven.
Carefully spoon the jam into the jars, leaving a quarter inch of air at the top. Wipe the top and sides of the jars carefully with a wet paper towel; if there’s jam overflow, your jars won’t seal.
Carefully place your jars in the simmering water in your big pot. You don’t want them to tip because you don’t want any jam to spill on your jar, which could keep the jar from sealing.
In a perfect world, you should have a trivet at the bottom of your big canning pot so your jars don’t touch the pot surface, which can cause them to break. This sounds much fussier and harder than it actually is; I didn’t use a trivet and I did tip my jars over as I was putting them in the pot, and it was fine — but it’s possible that I just got lucky.
Return the heat to high so your water is boiling vigorously again, then boil your filled jars for 10 minutes.
Remove them carefully and set them down in a spot that’s relatively not sunny and relatively cool, which at this time of year is pretty much anyplace in my kitchen. Don’t move the jars for 12 hours, so you don’t ‘“break” the set of the marmalade or the seal on the jars.
If at the end of that time the lids aren’t sealed, clean the lids and jars again and boil them again for another 10 minutes. If your marmalade didn’t set, I suppose you could pour it all back in a clean pot and boil it down some more.
I always feel like preserving jars of food is very intimidating and time consuming, but it really is very easy. You just boil your jars for 10 minutes. Done. But it does help if you prepare your jars correctly and have the right tools. If you want to learn more about canning, go to the National Center for Home Food Preservation website at https://nchfp.uga.edu.
The Jan. 7 print edition of The Lakeville Journal and Millerton News had a recipe error. It said the marmalade should be kept at a rolling boil with "very big bubbles but foaming.” It should have said, “but not foaming."
Dancers from Pilobolus will perform at the NWCT Arts Council spring fundraiser on April 26 in Washington Depot, Conn.
On Saturday, April 26, the Northwest Connecticut Arts Council will host a special evening, Arts Connected, their spring fundraiser celebrating the power of creativity and community. Held at the Bryan Memorial Town Hall in Washington Depot from 5 to 8 p.m., this event brings together artists, performers, and neighbors for a magical night filled with inspiration, connection and joy.
Award-winning designer and arts advocate Diane von Furstenberg and her granddaughter Antonia Steinberg are honorary co-chairs of the event. Their shared love of the arts informs the spirit of the evening.
Antonia Steinberg, above, President of Bucks Rock Camp in New Milford that she first attended as a camper when she was ten years old. Antonia is co-chair, with her grandmother Diane Von Furstenberg of the NWCT Arts Council fundraiser.Provided
“As someone whose life was profoundly shaped by the arts — as a child at Buck’s Rock and now as President of its Board — I’ve seen firsthand the transformative power of the arts; how creative spaces can empower young people, build community, and nurture well-rounded problem solvers. That’s why I’m so honored to co-host the Northwest CT Arts Council Gala. Their work in supporting artists and cultural organizations across Connecticut is essential,” said Steinberg.
Von Furstenberg’s influence in fashion and culture, and Steinberg’s leadership at Buck’s Rock reflect the intergenerational impact of the arts,” said NWCT Arts Council board president Sunday Fisher. “Their participation underscores the power of creative expression as a defining force in our community.” Steinberg is the president of Buck’s Rock Camp, a non-profit performing and creative arts camp in New Milford that she first attended as a 10-year-old camper.
Diane Von Furstenberg, co-chair of NWCT Arts Council fundraiser.Provided
Steph Burr, executive director at NWCT Arts Council, added, “Events like Arts Connected are at the heart of what we do — bringing people together, lifting up artists, and reminding us of the essential role creativity plays in our lives. The Council works year-round to ensure the arts not only survive but thrive across our region.”
NWCT Arts Council is a nonprofit that serves as advocates for the arts. Through regranting efforts, public art support, legislative advocacy, and their regional events calendar, they work to ensure the arts are accessible and celebrated in every corner of their 25-town service area.
Burr continued, “The arts in Northwest Connecticut are vibrant, evolving, and deeply rooted in community. There’s a quiet but powerful creative pulse running through these hills — one that reflects the resilience, diversity, and passion of the people who call this region home. Over the past few years, artists and cultural organizations have navigated challenges with heart and determination, despite ongoing funding volatility. Through our advocacy and collaborative programming, we ensure the arts remain essential and accessible in our community.”
Highlights of the April 26 fundraiser include performances by Pilobolus, Sherman Chamber Ensemble, Ysanne Marshall & the Lotus Blues, hand pan musician Jeremy Driscoll, and a curated art exhibition, NW25 Gallery, featuring local artists. Sponsors Litchfield Distillery, Kent Falls Brewing Company, and Executive Cuisine catering will provide the food and drink.
Ticket prices are $125, open to guests 21 and older, available online at givebutter.com/artsconnected.For more information or to ask about sponsorship opportunities, email Katherine Pelletier at katherine@artsnwct.org or visit givebutter.com/artsconnectedsponsorship.
Arts Connected is made possible thanks to the generous support of sponsors; Antonia Steinberg is sponsoring all the artists for the event and Valiant Energy and Torrington Savings Bank are presenting the event.Additional sponsors include William Raveis Lifestyle Realty, Litchfield Magazine, Housatonic Heritage, Art Bank 7, Harney & Sons Teas, Aquarion Water, The Lost Fox Inn, George Home, NKYV Rituals, and Litchfield Distillery.
Lily Al-Nemri, founder and owner, and artistic director and painter Rudy Vavra at Tyte medispa and gallery in Millbrook.
The painter Rudy Vavra once created floor collages in Texas. You could, in theory, lie on them. Now, years later and much farther north, his work graces the walls of a medispa in Millbrook, New York where he also serves as the artistic director. You can still lie down, just not on the art. Instead, you might be undergoing an EmFace non-surgical facelift while surrounded by twenty-two of Vavra’s paintings.
The space, Tyte Medispa in Millbrook, is equal parts gallery and treatment center, the brainchild of Lily Al-Nemri, a medical aesthetician and now gallery owner. She also owns the nail salon, Bryte, down the street on Franklin Avenue. A few years ago, feeling she was outgrowing that space, she looked to expand and, just a few blocks away, found this rather sprawling maze of rooms with the gallery that now inhabits the grand central ballroom. “This used to be a gym,” she said. “It was way more than I was looking for, but I went for it.”
Vavra, a self-professed “painter’s painter,” has spent decades layering pigment in his barn-turned-studio in Milan, New York. “I find paintings as much as I make them,” he mused. “Some happen quickly, others are slow.” Of this latest collection, he said, “Some people call them busy. I think they’re slow.” His marks accumulate with a kind of devotional persistence, like petals left at a shrine. “A while ago, I saw a photographic image of a shrine,” Vavra said. “I don’t know if it was a Buddhist shrine or what, but there were colors on the ground all around it, and I realized they were the stains of flowers left in the worship. That’s very similar to the way I paint.”
The collection of paintings on view at Tyte — some as large as a shrine — are meditations on color, inviting the viewer to slow down. Or speed up. Whether viewers are activated or soothed by the images is neither Vavra’s intention nor within his control. Still, he said that watching people interact with the work has been a real treat. “Now that I have my paintings here, I get to see them all together,” he said. “It’s only when they’re all together that I see how they talk to each other. It’s interesting to see people come in and go to have a treatment and come out. It’s a very interesting connection.”
And what is the connection? What could be a disjointed pairing — aesthetics and aesthetic medicine — has become, improbably, a perfectly logical continuum. “They’re related in a sense,” Vavra said.
Aly Morrissey
Al-Nemri, a former radiologist who taught for over a decade at Westchester Community College, is no stranger to layering, precision, or the quiet rigor of care. Her incredible menu of services — Botox, body contouring, pelvic floor therapies — are the cutting edge of the industry. Of Vavra, Al-Nemri said, “I fell in love with his work, and we just hit it off.” It’s a kind of kismet that seems to hover over the place. Pilates mat classes take place twice a week in the main gallery space and both Al-Nemri and Vavra have loved watching clients pause, eyes caught by a stripe of cerulean or a vibrating cluster of brushstrokes. “Something will catch their eye,” said Vavra. “They’re looking for something in it.”
So, this gallery-meets-spa (or is it the other way around?) has plans. Vavra will be curating six shows a year. Laurie Adams’s photographs will be hung in June, a group show of local artists will share the space in July and August, and a Fall show will feature twenty women artists, which Vavra is eager to anchor with a piece by Judy Pfaff. “There’s nothing like this on this side of the county,” he said of the light drenched space. “It’s been a bit sleepier here. We want to wake it up.”
He means it kindly; sleep certainly has its place. But here in Millbrook, amid the low drone of machines designed to rejuvenate, something unexpected has emerged. Perhaps that’s what both Al-Nemri and Vavra are really after — not the quick fix or the final image, but the suspended moment, the long look. A face seen anew. A painting revealed slowly, in silence.
As for Vavra’s curatorial process? “I just unpack the paintings, lean them against the wall, and look,” he said. “Eighty percent of the time, they’re already where they’re supposed to be.”