When Life Gives You Lemons...

I have always been confused by the proverb: When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. 

The saying seems to imply that lemons are inherently bad. I am not sure why lemons would have such a negative reputation. They are bright, tart, fragrant, full of essential oils and Vitamin C. They have many beneficial qualities that are utilized in cooking, baking, cleaning, and producing medicines as well as skincare products. Why anyone would consider a bounty of these wonderful fruits as a misfortune that can be reversed only by making a sugary drink baffles me. Anyway, the proverb has been around forever and besides the problematic lemon reference, I get the gist of it. When faced with adversity, or too much of a bad thing, one should try to make something good out of it. I also believe that if ever there was a time when real life mirrored the proverb, this is it. A pandemic-induced global lockdown has handed us "lemons" in the form of time spent in the anxious isolation of our homes; our regular lives disrupted with no immediate promise of return to normalcy. What good can possibly come out of this?

We have been in this mode for the past four weeks and during that time, there has been a gradual shift in popular opinion regarding the use of time during the lockdown. During the early part of the lockdown, the Internet offered up a lot of helpful tips about how to be productive and how to utilize this situation as an opportunity to start something new. Losing weight, writing that long-planned novel, learning a new language, meditating...and of course chronicling these achievements through social media platforms every step of the way. Since then, the tide of popular opinion seems to have turned slightly. The continuing isolation, climbing death toll, and economic uncertainty are weighing heavy on everyone's mind. The pressure to be proactive has become yet another source of anxiety in this already-stressful time. Recently, I have noticed a few articles chastising those that are promoting the peer pressure of reinventing themselves during this global crisis. Those articles assure us that it is ok to feel despondent and listless at times. They also urge us to find comfort in things that bring us fulfillment, even if they may not be Insta-worthy. As a social media hermit, I am somewhat immune to the onslaught of peer pressure and FOMO participating in those platforms seem to entail. So, I continue to find fulfillment in everyday activities, free of the pressure to share or collect affirmations from others.

Back to our citrus reference... before the lockdown went into effect, we had harvested oranges from the tree in our backyard. Some of these had been consumed as is, others juiced, but there were still dozens lying around. So, I thought, if life has given me oranges (and some free time), why not make marmalade? I love marmalade, the kind that has lots of ribbony rinds suspended in the thick, bitter-sweet jelly. I also love making marmalade because I can utilize every part of the fruit -- the rinds, the pulp, the juice, even the seeds and membranes. There is also a generous amount of sugar involved, but that we can worry about later. Since we are lucky enough to have a tree in the backyard that in a good year yields a couple of bushels of oranges, making and sharing marmalade has become an annual tradition for me. The prep is time-consuming, but the essential oils released by piles of orange peels fills the whole kitchen with a citrusy perfume and makes the task enjoyable. Minimal supervision is required during the cooking process, so you can continue with other tasks as long as you keep an eye on the marmalade. The recipe yields five pint jars of marmalade -- enough to share with friends and neighbors.

What You Need:
1 dozen medium-sized oranges
4 cups water
5 cups sugar (adjust according to sweetness of the fruit)

Directions:
Wash oranges. Remove the brightly colored zests with a peeler or sharp knife. Take care to leave behind the white pith under the zest.

Chop the zest from 8 of the oranges into ribbons. (Use the excess zest to bake orange bread.)

Place a strainer lined with cheesecloth on top of a glass bowl.

Cut the ends of the zested oranges and trim down the thick white pith from each orange.

Holding each orange over the strainer, remove each segment by separating from the membrane holding the segment together. Place separated segments and resulting juice in the bowl. Place the membranes and seeds in the cheesecloth lined strainer. This can be messy, so position the strainer so that all juices run into the bowl.

Squeeze any juice out of the membranes and collect in the bowl with the orange segments. Tie the cheesecloth with the membranes and seeds into a bag.

Combine orange segments, juice, rind, water, and sugar in a heavy-bottomed pan and bring to a boil over medium high heat.

Once the mixture comes to a boil, add the cheesecloth bag. The membranes and seeds will release pectin that helps the marmalade set.

Place a plate in the fridge to chill.

Continue cooking, stirring occasionally. After about an hour, the marmalade should start thickening. Lower heat and continue simmering for another 15 minutes.

Now to the chilled plate test: Place a dollop of marmalade on the chilled plate. Swirl the plate to spread out the marmalade. Drag the back of a teaspoon through the spread marmalade. If the marmalade is set, the spoon will leave a clear trail.

Remove the marmalade from heat and remove the cheesecloth bag, squeezing out any marmalade collected in it. Stir the marmalade to distribute rinds evenly. While still slightly warm, spoon marmalade into clean, prepared jars and secure lids.