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Apple Jelly
Pare, core, and slice three pounds of apples. Put them into a stewpan with a tea-cupful of water. When reduced to a pulp, put them into a jelly bag and let them drain all night; they must not be squeezed. Next morning put the juice into a saucepan, being careful not to put any sediment with it, adding a pound of sugar to a pint of juice, and a few drops of the essence of Vanilla. Boil it until it will stiffen when cold; cover the jars as soon as possible. The pulp may be made into jam. Time to boil with the sugar, about twenty minutes. Probable cost, 1s.
A plain apple jelly of the sort every Victorian kitchen made in autumn. Two things decide whether it sets: the apples you choose and how you treat the bag.
- Do not squeeze the bagThis is the hinge. Pressing the pulp forces starch and fine solids through and gives a cloudy, dull jelly. Hang it overnight and take only what drips; the instruction to leave the sediment behind in the morning is part of the same discipline.
- Choose sharp, hard applesParing and coring the fruit throws away much of the pectin, which is concentrated in the skins and cores. Use firm cooking apples such as Bramley, Granny Smith or crab apples, and slightly underripe ones generally set better than mellow eating apples. If you would rather leave the peel and cores in the pan, the jelly may set more readily -- the bag strains them out anyway.
- Three pounds of applesAbout 1.4 kg, which after cooking and overnight draining yields roughly 1 to 1/2 pints (600/900 ml) of juice, depending on the fruit. A teacupful was reckoned at about 5 to 6 fl oz (150/175 ml); add a little more if the pan looks dry, as the point is only to stop scorching before the apples collapse.
- Sugar by measured juiceA pound of sugar to a pint of juice is roughly 450 g to 570 ml; since a pint of juice weighs about 1/ lb, that is somewhat less sugar than the modern equal-weights rule. Measure the strained juice before adding anything, and warm the sugar in the pan gently until dissolved before letting it boil.
- The setting testTwenty minutes is a guide, not a rule; it depends on your pan and the pectin in the fruit. Jelly sets at about 220°F (104°C), or when a spoonful chilled on a cold saucer wrinkles when pushed with a finger. Overboiling gives a sticky, caramel-tinged jelly that will not brighten again.
- Essence of vanillaA few drops only, stirred in at the end. Victorian vanilla essences were often imitations, based on tonka-bean coumarin or the synthetic vanillin that reached the market in the later nineteenth century; modern extract is generally stronger, so start with a quarter teaspoon per pint of juice and taste.
- Covering the jars\"As soon as possible\" meant a waxed disc and a paper cover while the jelly was still hot, to keep mould off the surface. For anything you mean to keep in the cupboard, use clean hot jars with two-piece lids and give them a boiling-water bath to the times in a current preserving guide.
- The pulpWorth following up. Sieve the drained pulp to remove any stray skin, weigh it, and cook it down with about three-quarters its weight in sugar for a rough apple butter or jam — nothing like as bright as the jelly, but good on toast.
- Probable costOne shilling, the costing Cassell's attached to the whole quantity. It tells you the dish was reckoned cheap enough to be worth the two days' work.
Apple jelly earned its place in a book like Cassell's because it solved two problems at once: it used up windfall and storage apples before they spoiled, and it produced a clear, firm preserve without any added setting agent, since apples are among the richest common fruits in pectin. Commercial pectin was not available to British households until the twentieth century, so cooks worked instead by choosing fruit known to jell — apples, crabs, quinces, currants, gooseberries — and by boiling to a judged set on a cold plate. The overnight jelly bag, often flannel hung from an upturned stool or a purpose-made stand, was standard equipment. The vanilla here is a Victorian flourish rather than tradition; apple jelly was more often scented with lemon peel, cloves or quince, and the plain version is generally said to have served as a neutral base for glazing tarts and for serving with meat.