Quince Jelly and Disillusionment

[hurly_burly]

I am deep into the quince jelly process, now.  Fruit has been peeled, chopped, and simmered down to a pulp with a few lemons, then strained overnight through a jelly bag (well, two jelly bags, since I have quadrupled the recipe), and now the pleasingly pink liquid is back in pots on the stove, with copious amounts of sugar added to it, coming slowly up to the boil.  I am ever so slightly annoyed, because as it turns out this is not as difficult or fiddly as I had hitherto assumed and I wish I had started making it years ago.  This puts quince jelly in the smae culinary category as pate; things that Gran makes regularly and which I always thought were tricky, time-consuming, and only truly acheivable by grandmothers.  They had an air of mystique about them, which is rapidly dissapating, and I'm too scared to try my hand at Gran's coffee melting moments because if I can make them as well then all my illusions will be shattered.  Gran's cooking is magical and secretive, and mere mortals shouldn't be able to do it, dammit!  I honestly don't know why this bothers me...

Comments

[glass-violet.livejournal.com]

I know! I was gobsmacked when I read the recipe, which is basically "fry the stuff up then put it through a blender with some butter". I feel so cheated! I really don't mind the smell while it's cooking, either, but I upped the port content...