The Epicurean
A Treatise on the Culinary Art — Charles Ranhofer of Delmonico’s — 1894
No. 3676

Fig and Orange Marmalade or Jam

Marmelade de Figues et d'Oranges

Select large white, ripe, but very firm figs; remove the skins and cut up the fruits; weigh, and for each pound allow seven ounces of sugar dissolved in a little water. Boil this up once or twice, put in the figs and cook until the marmalade coats the skimmer and drops from it in beads, then pour into glass jars previously heated.

Orange Marmalade.—Choose some not too ripe oranges, remove their zests with the knife shown in Fig. 156, prick them with a coarse needle and put them in a pan with boiling water; cover them over to cook until the remaining skin becomes softened, then place in an abundance of cold water for twenty-four hours. Drain, open them, suppress the seeds, and pass the orange and peel through a sieve. Cook the same weight of sugar to "ball" (No. 171) as there is orange, mix both together and cook until the marmalade falls from the skimmer in a sheet.

For the Modern Kitchen Do not make this as written.

Two separate preserves printed under one heading, both relying on visual doneness tests rather than clock or thermometer. A candy thermometer resolves nearly all of the ambiguity.

A Little History

This pair of entries comes from Charles Ranhofer's The Epicurean (1894), the vast compendium he assembled after some three decades as chef at Delmonico's in New York. The preserve chapter reads like a working larder inventory rather than a set of home recipes: fruit was put up in quantity in season so the kitchen could produce ices, tart fillings and petits fours through the winter, which is why the instructions assume a cook who already knows the sugar-boiling scale and needs only the fruit-specific details. The orange method here, with its pricking, boiling, long cold soak and sieving, is the older French marmelade technique, closer to a smooth fruit paste than to the shred-suspended-in-jelly that British Seville marmalade had already made familiar by this date. The word itself is generally traced to the Portuguese marmelada, a stiff quince paste, quince being marmelo.