Nope, this isn’t about a musical outing with expat Slovenian rockers in New Zealand. It’s just a real recipe for traditional Slovenian kiwi jam.
Let’s backtrack for just a moment.
I’ve seen kiwi jam here in Slovenia, but I’d never tried it, don’t know how long of a tradition it has, or if it even has one. I’m deeming this traditional simply because I plan to make it more than once, hence a tradition is born. At least in my kitchen. And the fruit is from my aunt’s backyard in Lucija on the coast, so yes it’s 100% Slovenian (more or less, see below). And thus another recipe winds up clogging an artery of the internet.
My fetish for making jam at home came late. I became hooked last summer when I whipped up an apricot/raspberry/peach/gewurztraminer sparking wine concoction that friends and neighbors are still raving (and ranting) about. Next summer I’ll take pictures and give it a home here too.
A bag of kiwis from my aunt’s backyard (about two-and-a-half kilos), peeled and sliced
Two large-ish sweetish apples, peeled, de-seeded and eighth-ed
Two medium-ish clementines, peeled, separated and halved
Juice of one lemon from my girlfriend’s parents’ farm near the Dalmatian coast
one to two cups of medium dry white wine (mainly because I really wanted to open a bottle)
Three cups (420g) of sugar
Four drops of honey
One package of pectin (25g)
Nine Easy Steps
Take the peeled kiwis and mash the hell out of them in a large pot. Gently of course.
Add the apples. I tossed those in for their natural pectin content and their sweetness. (And because I like apples). Kiwi is a bit sour as you know so kiwi jam needs all the sweetening help it can get before the sugar dump.
Add the clementines.
Squeeze the lemon dry. (Over the pot.)
Heat to a slow boil all the time mixing, mixing, mixing.
When you reach the boil, lower the heat and stir in the sugar, little by little. NO. Don’t dump it all at once. Geez.
If there are any chunks left, use a hand mixer to get rid of them once and for all and make your kitchen chunky lump-free.
Finally, add the pectin, and stir, stir, stir.
Fill the jars –the ones that helped turn your kitchen into a steam bath when you tried to sterilize them– to within a quarter inch of the rim. Wipe that rim clean. Seriously. Do it.
I have to say, this turned out great. It’s a little on the tarty-sweet side. But aren’t we all?
This recipe fills nine cute little jars. Next time I’ll probably go with a sweeter wine and add a few slices of fresh pineapple to fill ten.