Pineapple Rhubarb Marmalade

Rhubarb season is short and the freezer can only hold so much, which is why old preserve cookbooks lean hard on marmalades like this one. Five pounds of rhubarb and five pounds of sugar are the foundation, but it’s the pineapple and a fistful of chopped figs that turn this from plain rhubarb jam into something more interesting. Tropical, jammy, and faintly chewy from the fig seeds.

The pineapple-paring trick is the move that gets skipped in modern recipes and shouldn’t. Boiling the trimmed pineapple skins and cores with water until the liquid reduces by half pulls every last bit of pineapple flavor and natural pectin from what most cooks throw in the compost. That two cups of strained pineapple essence is what gives the marmalade body without store-bought pectin.

Cooking the rhubarb and sugar separately until clear, then combining with the pineapple-lemon mixture and figs, layers in flavor instead of muddying it. Simmer slow and stir constantly. Sugar burns at the bottom of the pot the moment you turn your back, and a scorched batch tastes bitter all the way through.

Pro Tips

• Use red-stalked rhubarb for the prettiest color. Pale green stalks taste the same but the marmalade looks dull.
• Stir with a long-handled wooden spoon. The marmalade pops and spits as it thickens, and a wooden spoon won’t conduct heat to your knuckles.
• Test for set with the cold-plate trick: chill a small plate in the freezer, drop a spoonful of hot marmalade on it, push with your finger. If it wrinkles, it’s done.
• Sterilize jars and lids before filling. This recipe yields about 96 servings (12 to 14 half-pint jars), and unsterilized jars mean spoiled batches.

Variations

• Swap dried apricots for the figs for a brighter, more orange-toned preserve.
• Add a vanilla bean split lengthwise for the last 10 minutes of simmering.
• A splash of bourbon stirred in at the end of cooking gives the marmalade a grown-up edge.