ArchiveFebruary 2026

In these days of so much doom and gloom particularly among the farming sector. I’m so encouraged to meet so many young people who are leaving the cities to go back to the country to live on the land, not just here but in the UK and US also. A recent poll in The Journal found that 53% of Irish people would also prefer to live in the country.

Many long to buy a patch of land, and a little house, often even one in dire need of renovation. One such example is Julius Roberts, I’ve never met him, but I certainly want to. He’s one of the many who are leaving the cities to take back a modicum of control over their own lives. They are on a mission to grow their own food and reconnect with the natural world

Julius spent most of his childhood in the countryside exploring the woods, hunting rabbits and building bonfires!

Initially, he was scared to make the leap. For almost a year he’d been working in ‘Noble Rot’, a well-known London restaurant and wine bar. He loved the camaraderie and the excitement but the long hours, lack of sleep and stress didn’t seem sustainable to him. He loved learning and was intrigued by his head chef’s constant search for new produce, the very best ingredients and day boat fish from Cornwall. And the forager who always found the best wild mushrooms, the vegetable growers who sowed seeds and tilled the land. He envied the cheery ‘tanned and healthy’ looking growers who delivered seasonal vegetables – crunchy kale, juicy tomatoes, thorny artichokes, blue skinned pumpkins and the farmer who proudly delivered the lambs he’d reared on organic pasture. All looked so vibrant and healthy from an outdoor life while he spent his days in a windowless kitchen.

He was scared to take the plunge, but after much encouragement, he packed a bag and set off with his dog Loki in tow. He moved into his parents cottage in Suffolk and started private catering to make ends meet with the ultimate goal of turning their home into a smallholding…

Quite the challenge, he’d moved in the depths of winter with a fist full of dreams and one might say, a pocket full of pence. The ground was frozen solid, too hard to dig and too cold to even sow seeds. There were many discoveries, chickens don’t like the cold either and lay far fewer eggs in winter.

He’d heard that pigs were a joy, so he started to search online and as luck would have it, met a lady who kept Mangalitsa rare breed pigs. Those gorgeous hairy pigs, famous for their dark marbled meat and particularly good for curing.

Eventually, four squeaky piglets arrived and after much fuss settled into the pen, Julius had scrambled together in the woods. They snuffled through the fallen leaves, dug deep into the rich soil and gorged on acorns. And so began a long and joyful journey.

Chickens, a few goats, a small flock of sheep and lots of vegetables growing plus an endless string of hard knocks, mistakes and joyful learning followed and so it continues.

Somehow in the midst of it all, Julius wrote a book, continued to cook and experiment with his homegrown produce. The rest is history.

His book ‘The Farm Table’ is a joy, not just for the many delicious seasonable recipes, but for his tingling prose, published by Ebury Press in 2023, but I’ve only just discovered it.

*Recipes have been adapted from The Farm Table by Julius Roberts, published by Ebury Press

Egg Curry with Coconut Sambal and Flatbread

A comforting and warming dish inspired by the egg curries of Sri Lanka and southern India.

Serves 4

Ingredients

Curry Paste

3 cloves of garlic

4-6cm approx. of fresh ginger

1 tbsp coconut oil

5 green cardamom pods

½ stick of cinnamon

2 tsp coriander seeds

1 tsp cumin seeds

1 tsp ground turmeric

½ tsp mustard seeds

Curry Base

1 large brown onion

2 bird’s-eye green chillies (remove the seeds if you don’t like it too spicy!)

1 tbsp coconut oil

10 fresh curry leaves

1 x 400g tin of plum tomatoes

1 x 400ml tin of coconut milk

8 eggs

Coconut Sambal

100g desiccated coconut (use freshly grated coconut if available)

1 small brown onion

30g fresh coriander

1 green chilli (optional)

juice of 1 lime

salt and a sprinkle of sugar

To Serve

warm flatbreads

Method

For the curry paste, smash and peel the garlic, then peel and roughly chop the ginger. Heat the coconut oil in a small pan. Once warm, add the spices, garlic, and ginger and fry on a medium heat for a minute or two until fragrant, make sure they don’t burn. Transfer to a food processor with a splash of water and blitz to a fine paste. Season with a pinch of salt and set aside. 

For the curry base, finely slice the onion and cut the chillies into thirds on the diagonal. Heat the coconut oil in a heavy-based pan and once warm, add the curry leaves and chillies. Fry briefly until they sizzle and release their fragrance, then add the onion with a decent pinch of salt. Cook for 8-10 minutes, until the onion begins to caramelise at the edges. Lift 4 tomatoes from the tin and crush them into the pan (don’t be tempted to add the entire tin as the tomato flavour will dominate). Add the curry paste and cook for 5 minutes, stirring regularly. Add the coconut milk and cook for 15 minutes, until the flavours have melted and the sauce has thickened. Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

While the curry is coming together, get a large pan of water on a rolling boil and add the eggs. Set a timer for 7 minutes (for a medium soft-boiled egg with jammy yolks). When they’re ready, remove and plunge into cold water. Peel off the shells and add the eggs to the curry sauce. 

To make the sambal, pour the coconut into a bowl and grate in the onion. Pour a few splashes of water over the coconut and stir together, adding more until it loses its dryness. Finely chop the coriander and chilli, if using, and stir through the coconut, being careful with the chilli at first. Taste and season generously with lime, sugar and salt until you’re happy. Add more green chilli bit by bit to find the right level of spice for you.

Serve the curry in bowls, with warm flatbreads and a generous amount of the coconut sambal.

Deep Green Pasta

This one pot dish is delicious and made in minutes.  This sauce is equally delicious dolloped into a risotto at the end of cooking, slathered on toast with eggs, or even stirred into a salad dressing.

Serves 4

Ingredients

250g cavolo nero (destalked weight), chopped coarsely

2-3 cloves of garlic, peeled

200g spinach

400g rigatoni (penne may also be used)

100ml olive oil

1 unwashed lemon

ricotta, Parmesan or pecorino, for serving (optional)

Method

Get a large pan of water on to a rolling boil and season well with salt, enough that you can actually taste it. Add the cavolo nero along with the garlic cloves and simmer for about 5 minutes. Then add the spinach, and when it has wilted (1 minutes approx.), keeping the pot of water at a rolling boil, lift the greens and garlic into a colander. Run the greens under a cold tap and allow them to drain (press out the excess water). Put the pasta into the pan of water. 

When the greens are drained, transfer to a high-speed blender, pour in the olive oil, grate in the zest of the lemon, and blitz into a very smooth purée, adding a splash of the cooking water to loosen it if need be (75ml approx.). Taste and adjust the seasoning as necessary.

Cook the pasta until al dente, then take a mug and collect a full cup of the starchy water before straining the pasta. Pour the pasta back into the hot pan and add a few big dollops of the sauce – be generous. Add a good splash of the pasta water (100ml approx.) and mix well, beating it around the pan to form a thick sauce that envelops the pasta in a deep green blanket. Serve immediately, with a squeeze of lemon, some ricotta, Parmesan or pecorino, if you like, and a generous drizzle of olive oil.

Pear and Walnut Upside-Down Cake

This cake is juicy, moist, and wonderfully light, but not too sweet. This cake lasts a good few days, especially if you keep it covered. Just gently warm any leftover slices in a low 140 °C fan oven (Gas Mark 1) before eating. 

Serves 8

Ingredients

Caramelised Pear Topping

5-6 ripe pears

50g butter

80g soft brown butter

juice of 1 ½ lemons (100ml approx.)

Cake

200g butter, softened

200g caster sugar

4 eggs

seeds from 5 cardamom pods

3 cloves

100g walnuts

200g self-raising flour

4 tsp baking powder

5g sea salt

1 tsp ground cinnamon

100g sour cream

To Serve

crème fraiche

1 x 23cm round cake tin, lined with parchment paper

Start by peeling the pears, then cut them into quarters lengthwise and remove the cores with a sharp knife. Place a wide frying pan on a medium heat and add the butter. When it begins to melt, add the pears, cut side down, then sprinkle the soft brown sugar over the top and gently move the pan, using the weight of the pears to mix the sugar into the butter. Squeeze over the lemon juice and allow to cook down for 8-10 minutes, until the pears have softened but still holding shape and the butter and sugar have become an amber-coloured caramel. Remove the pears and arrange cut side up, fat side out in the lined cake tin (you may not need all of them). Leave the caramel bubbling on a low heat to reduce further until it reaches a thick consistency, then pour over the pears (3-4 tbsp of caramel approx.).

Preheat the oven to 180 °C fan (Gas Mark 4).

For the cake. Place the softened butter in a large bowl of a food processor using the whisk attachment and add the sugar. Whisk until the butter is pale and fluffy, scraping down the sides a few times to make sure it’s evenly incorporated. With the mixer running, add the eggs one at a time, making sure each one is thoroughly mixed before adding the next, or the butter may split.

Grind the cardamom seeds and cloves in a pestle and mortar and pop into a bowl. Bash the walnuts in a pestle and mortar or crush them in a folded tea towel, using a rolling pin. You want to keep a chunky texture. Mix the flour with the baking powder to ensure its evenly distributed. Sift, then add to the butter with the salt, cinnamon, ground spices and walnuts. Mix these dry ingredients into the batter, then stir through the sour cream. Spread the cake batter over the pears and lightly even out the top. 

Place the cake in the middle of the oven for up to an hour, until the cake is set. After around 30 minutes, reduce the heat to 160 °C fan (Gas Mark 3) to make sure the top doesn’t get too dark. Keep an eye, but don’t open the door, or you risk the cake deflating. After about 50 minutes, give the cake a gentle shake – if the middle is at all wobbly, it’s not cooked yet. To test, insert a skewer into the middle, and when it comes out clean, it’s ready.

Remove from the oven and allow to sit for 15 minutes, then place a chopping board gently on the top of the cake. Flip the cake and board, then remove the tin, and you should have a beautifully risen cake with juicy caramelised pears on top. Serve warm with crème fraîche.

Food and farming are my great loves so when I travel, I link up with carefully chosen farmers and food producers and eat out a lot – all in the way of research!

The ORFC, Oxford Real Farming Conference at the beginning of January was a particularly inspirational few days with over 2,000 delegates and 150 plus events in nine venues throughout Oxford.
But this is a food column so I’ll concentrate on the restaurants that have inspired and delighted me lately.

On a recent visit to London, my most enjoyable meal of many, was at The Yellow Bittern on Caledonian Road. A tiny restaurant where Hugh Corcoran and his partner, Frances Armstrong-Jones,  run one of my very favourite eateries, on their own terms,  so they too can have a life!
 Open Monday to Friday, just for lunch, one sitting a day at 1pm. Closed on  Saturday and Sunday,  not open for dinner – cash only….
A set menu of delicious seasonal food and real provenance.
Freshly baked wheaten bread with homemade butter. (Hugh then uses the leftover buttermilk for the soda bread).
A set price lunch, £50, half a dozen delicious Galway oysters and/or a cheese trolley of Irish Farmers cheese in perfect condition, including a beautiful crusty wheel of Mike Thompson’s Young Buck from Hugh’s hometown Belfast, an optional extra.
First, there was a big bowl of deeply comforting chicken broth, followed by a brown and white crab meat with homemade mayo and a simple salad – pitch perfect, unpretentious and delicious.

By coincidence, the fishmonger who supplied the spanking fresh crab was sitting at the next table tucking into one of Hugh‘s legendary pies. This time, it’s beef shin, topped with a flaky rough puff pastry lid, and accompanied by a bowl of meltingly tender Cavallo Nero.
Pudding was a home-made profiterole, oozing crème patisserie and smothered in dark chocolate sauce.

My criteria for a good restaurant, even if I’ve had an enjoyable meal. Do I want to return? Often the answer is more like…Been there, done that, don’t need to do again but it’s a resounding YES to the Yellow Bittern and also to Assassination Custard, perhaps, my favourite lunch place in Dublin.
A similar vibe in many ways, it’s even tinier than The Yellow Bittern,  just three tables, two tables for two and one round table that will sit six at a slight squeeze. This can be a sharing table, so fun to make new friends.
The menu of small plates, maybe 10-12 choices, is written in Ken‘s (by his own admission) almost illegible handwriting and I always seem to want to order absolutely everything.

I recently took my friend who hadn’t been before and we literally ate our way through the menu, sharing small plates…
Taralli with Cannonata
Aubergine with Pul Biber

Pickled Mussels with Curry Leaf Aioli on strips of Grilled Focaccia
Crown Prince Pumpkin with Garlic and Agrodolce
Bitters and Guanciale
Wilted Greens on Panisse
Pumpkin with Guindillas Chillies, and shavings of Parmesan
Blood Orange and Red Onion Salad with EVOO and Sea Salt
Vitello Tonnato with Veal from Broughgammon Farm in Co. Antrim.
Potatoes Stuffed with Wild Mushrooms from the Mushroom Butcher on 90 South Circular Road in Portobello.
Friselle Bread with Giardiniera and Labneh
Blood Orange and Olive Oil Cake with Softly Whipped Cream
I had some cream left over so I put a dollop on my mocha coffee. I’d forgotten how totally delicious, icy cold cream is on hot coffee.
When I look back at my photos, I was astonished to see that we shared 12 dishes. At the end I was pleasingly sated but absolutely not over full.
When I read back over my text I realise that I am effusive  in my praise for these two restaurants but I’d like to stress that I have no connection with either and do not accept free meals even if offered, but it’s so thrilling to get real food made from superb, fresh seasonal ingredients.

The vegetables came from McNally’s Farm, the food heroes of every good chef in Dublin.

Everything was made from scratch and cooked and served just before we ate each dish.

Once again, all the breads, taralli, friselle focaccia were all house made and still warm.

Deceptively simple, highly skilled, perfectly judged food, seemingly effortlessly cooked by Ken and Gwen, who have a rare skill for combining and highlighting flavours and creating contrasting textures.

No B/S, no green washing – a breath of fresh air, rare enough in these days of twiddles and bows and skid marks on plates.
Book ahead for both places but it’s always worth contacting on the day, just in case of a cancellation.

While you’re there, pick up a little jar of the legendary piccalilli.

And while you are at Yellow Bittern, check out Oisin Davies book shop located downstairs – another hidden treasure trove.

Yellow Bittern’s Crab with Homemade Mayonnaise and Winter Leaves

So simple, so perfect.

Serves 4 approx.

Ingredients

1 cooked brown crab (see recipe)

homemade mayonnaise

a little salad of seasonal leaves

Salad Dressing

3 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp red wine vinegar

salt

Method

Remove the claws from the crab. Crack the claws and extract every scrap of white meat. Put into a bowl.

Hold the crab with the underside uppermost and lever out the centre portion – I do this by catching the little lip of the projecting centre shell against the edge of the table and pressing down firmly. The Dead Man’s Fingers (lungs) usually come out with this central piece but check in case some are left in the body. If so, remove and discard them.

Press your thumb down over the light shell just behind the eyes so that the shell cracks slightly, and then the sac which is underneath can be removed easily and discarded. Everything else inside the body of the crab is edible.

Scoop out the brown meat from the shell and put into a separate bowl. Taste each and tweak the seasoning if necessary.

To make the salad dressing, whisk all ingredients together just before the salad is to be eaten.

To Serve

Put a generous dollop of white and brown crab meat side by side on the plate with some homemade mayonnaise and a generous pinch full of dressed leaves and maybe a segment of lemon.

Simple and utterly delicious when each of the elements are fresh and lovely.

How to cook crab

All types of crab are best cooked in seawater.  Alternatively, cook in well-salted freshwater.  For common crab, put the crab into a deep saucepan, cover with cold or barely lukewarm water, using 175g of salt to every 2.3 litres of water.  This may sound like an incredible amount of salt but try it: the crab will taste deliciously sweet.

Cover the saucepan, bring to the boil and then simmer from there on, allowing 15 minutes for the first 450g, and 10 minutes for the second and third (I’ve never come across a crab bigger than that!).  We usually pour off two-thirds of the water halfway through cooking and then cover and steam the crab for the remainder of the time.  As soon as it is cooked, remove it from the saucepan and allow to get cold.

Assassination Custard’s Bitters and Guanciale

The sugar/vinegar mixture will be more than enough for this salad and the Pumpkin Agrodolce.  

Serves 4

Ingredients

250ml apple cider vinegar

250ml distilled vinegar

250g of granulated sugar 

400g of salad leaves (a combination of):

red endive 

Belgian endive 

chicory

radicchio (optional)

100g guanciale 

2 tbsp of olive oil 

4 tbsp of sugar/vinegar mixture 

Method

Heat the vinegars in a saucepan. Add the sugar to dissolve. Cool and bottle if not using straight away. 

Break the endive into its natural strips. Cut and discard the ends. The radicchio and chicory can be chopped into similar sizes. Pop them in a bowl.

Chop the guanciale into small pieces. Fry in the pan with the olive oil until crispy. The smoke is normal but watch it. Take the pan off the heat. Remove the guanciale with a slotted spoon and keep in a warm place.

Add about 4 tablespoons of the sugar/vinegar mixture into the pan off the heat. You want to emulsify the fat and sugar/vinegar. Gently reheat the pan and whisk the fat and sugar mixture. Be careful. It might spit a bit. As soon as it starts to bubble, pour over the leaves. Throw in half the guanciale. Toss everything together. Divide between 2 large plates (for sharing) or 4 small ones. Eat while warm. 

Assassination Custard’s Pumpkin Agrodolce 

This recipe is time-consuming but worth the effort. It keeps in the fridge for about a week or so, if it lasts that long!

Ingredients

1 whole small-medium Crown Prince pumpkin vinegar/sugar mixture with added water (see Bitters and Guanciale recipe). 

3 garlic cloves, chopped

extra virgin olive oil 

sea salt 

Serves 20

Method

Very carefully cut the pumpkin in half. Then even more carefully, flesh side down, slice the pumpkin in ½cm thin or whatever feels comfortable and not dangerous.

Using a griddle, pan-grill the pumpkin slices until cooked and a little charred. Approx. 2-3 minutes per side. As the pan gets hotter it will take less time. Tumble the slices into a container and pour over enough of the sugar/vinegar mixture (with a little added water) to cover the pumpkin. Add some extra virgin olive oil. Put a lid on the container and leave overnight in the fridge. Bring to room temperature before serving. We add a little chopped garlic just before serving. Don’t forget to spoon over some dressing and oil. Finish with sea salt. The marinade could be used again (for this recipe) or other dressings. 

At present the streets of Seville and many Spanish towns and villages are lined with beautiful orange trees with shiny green leaves and tantalizingly ripe bitter oranges – all perfect for marmalade making. One wonders why the Spaniards don’t pick them but wait for this, the Spanish don’t love marmalade and are very confused and bemused by our love for this bitter preserve.

Spain exports most of its Seville and Malaga oranges to the UK and Ireland for marmalade lovers like me. The season is short, from mid-December to the end of February so if you want to make your very own favourite marmalade, you’ll need to dash to the shops to secure your supply. Buy more than you need, if at all possible,

just throw them into the freezer whole (they freeze brilliantly) so you can make whole orange marmalade at any time of the year.

Marmalade is an intensely personal taste, some like it fresh tasting, others prefer bittersweet.

Seville Orange Marmalade is the real deal, the classic, made famous by our beloved Paddington Bear. You can do lots of riffs on it by adding whiskey, treacle or ginger…It’s stronger, tangier than preserves made with other citrus. Nonetheless, I also make properly delicious marmalade with grapefruit, Amalfi lemons… blood oranges are also in season now, bergamot and clementines, mandarins, tangerines and of course kumquats, the baby of the citrus fruit family which makes one of the most delicious preserves of all. I love to serve it with a pan-grilled duck breast or a burrata and rocket salad.

Most, though not all marmalades are made over a two day period. Juice and squeeze the oranges (buy organic if at all possible), Seville oranges tend to be unwaxed but give the others a good scrub first to remove the food-grade wax, pesticide residues, dust and bacteria acquired during the transportation process on the rind. Slice the orange peel thickly or thinner, depending on your preference. Collect the pips and scoop out into a muslin bag with the membrane (essential for pectin). Leave to steep with the peel in the water and juice overnight. Next day, cook for ages until the peel is tender, heat the sugar but be careful not to add until the peel is really soft and the liquid has reduced to between one-third and half of its original volume. If the sugar is added too early, it has a hardening effect on the peel, resulting in a chewy texture which no amount of boiling will soften it… So disappointing, after all your hard work. I know it doesn’t ‘float everyone’s boat’ but I love slicing the peel by hand, I make it into a Zen like practice, brew a cup of coffee, turn on a little soothing music, pop onto a highchair and enjoy the process. Of course, one could just put into a blender but for me, the result is sludgy and much less appealing. It’s your choice, it will depend on your preference and of course time.

If you really are a marmalade nerd, think about entering a pot into the Marmalade Awards before February 3^rd check out www.dalemain.com

For those who love a really fresh tasting marmalade and/or if you are short of time, try this No Cook Marmalade, made in minutes, store it in the fridge and it’ll keep for at least 3 weeks.

There are lots more marmalade recipes in my Forgotten Skills and Ballymaloe Cookery Course cookbooks published by Kyle Books.

Old-Fashioned Seville Orange Marmalade

A brilliant recipe for a traditional Seville orange marmalade.

Makes approx. 3.2kg

Ingredients

900g of Seville oranges, organic if possible

2.3 litres water

1 organic lemon

1.45kg granulated sugar

Method

Wash the fruit, cut in half and squeeze out the juice. Remove the membrane with a spoon, put with the pips and tie them in a piece of muslin. Slice the peel finely or coarsely, depending on how you like your marmalade. Put the peel, orange and lemon juice, bag of pips and water into a non-reactive bowl or deep saucepan overnight.

Next day, bring everything to the boil in a deep saucepan. Cover and simmer gently four about 1 1/2 hours until the peel is really soft. Then cook uncovered until the liquid is reduced to between one third to half of the original volume (30 minutes approx.). Squeeze all the liquid from the bag of pips and remove it.

Add the warmed sugar and stir until all the sugar has been dissolved. Increase the heat and bring to a full rolling boil rapidly until setting point is reached 5-10 minutes approx. Test for a set, either with a sugar thermometer (it should register 104°C, or with a saucer. Put a little marmalade on a cold saucer and cool for a few minutes. If it wrinkles when you push it with your finger, it’s done.

Allow marmalade to sit in the saucepan for 15 minutes before bottling to prevent the peel from floating.   Pot into hot sterilized jars. Cover immediately and store in a cool dry dark place.

N.B. The peel must be absolutely soft before the sugar is added, otherwise when the sugar is added it will toughen the peel and no amount of boiling will soften it.

Variations

Whiskey Marmalade

Add 6 tbsp of whiskey to the cooking marmalade just before potting and boil for 1-2 minutes.

Treacle Marmalade

Add 175ml of treacle to the marmalade just before setting point has been reached. Bring back to the boil and cook for 4-5 minutes or until setting point is reached.

Ginger Marmalade

Add 175-225g peeled, finely chopped fresh ginger to once the recipe.  You may like to substitute Demerara sugar for a fuller flavour and darker colour.

Seville Whole Orange Marmalade

(made with whole oranges)

With any marmalade its vital that the original liquid has reduced by half or better still two-thirds before the sugar is added otherwise it takes ages to reach a set and both the flavour and colour will be spoiled.  A wide low-sided stainless steel saucepan is best for this recipe, say 35.5 x 40.5cm wide. If you don’t have one approx. that size cook the marmalade in two batches.

Makes 13-15 pots, depending on the size of the pot

Ingredients

2.2kg Seville or Malaga oranges (organic if possible)

5.1 litres water

3.6kg sugar

Method

Wash the oranges.  Put them in a stainless steel saucepan with the water.  Put a plate on top to keep them under the surface of the water.  Cover with the lid of the saucepan, simmer gently until soft, 2 hours approx. cool and drain, reserving the water. (If more convenient, leave overnight and continue next day.) Put your chopping board onto a large baking tray with sides so you won’t lose any juice.   Cut the oranges in half and scoop out the soft centre.  Slice the peel finely. Put the pips into a muslin bag.

Put the escaped juice, sliced oranges and the muslin bag of pips in a large wide stainless steel saucepan with the reserved marmalade liquid.  Bring to the boil, reduce by half or better still two-thirds, add the warm sugar, stir over a brisk heat until all the sugar is dissolved.  Boil fast until setting point is reached. Pot in sterilized jars and cover at once.  Store in a dark airy cupboard.

With any marmalade its vital that the original liquid has reduced by half or better still two-thirds before the sugar is added otherwise it takes ages to reach a set and both the flavour and colour will be spoiled.  A wide low-sided stainless steel saucepan is best for this recipe, say, 35.5 – 40.5cm wide.   If you don’t have one around that size, cook the marmalade in two batches.

No Cook Marmalade

Use organic fruit for this recipe.

A super delicious fresh tasting marmalade, made in minutes.

Makes 12 x 175ml jam jars

Ingredients

1.8kg approx. fruit (5 oranges, 1 lemon and 1 grapefruit)

1kg 250g granulated sugar

Method

Wash the fruit and cut into roughly 2.5-4cm chunks.

Remove the pips where possible.

Divide the fruit and sugar evenly into 3 batches.

Put one batch at a time into a Magimix, pulse and whizz. Pour into cold, sterilised jars and cover immediately. Taste, add a little more sugar if necessary.

Store in a refrigerator and enjoy as soon as possible while fresh.