When you think of your favorite summer cocktail, what comes to mind? I’m guessing “chinotto” wasn’t your first thought. Here’s the great news: Even if you’ve never heard of chinotto, you still have time to grab some and get ready for the season.
The most underrated member of the orange family is living a new life! Chinotto oranges (Citrus myrtifolia) come from a tree that originated in China. They’re shaped similar to typical oranges, but their taste is more tart and sour—and their smell is intense. California’s chinotto harvest begins in April and ends late May. In Italy, the fruit is commonly grown in Liguria and Sicily. Italians are more familiar with chinotto because one of their popular soda-like beverages is named after the citrus.
Chinotto oranges—which give an explosion of bittersweet, herbal, and fresh notes to any food or beverage—are becoming more desirable among chefs and inventive mixologists. Because of their unique, aromatic flare, chinotto are the perfect addition to any fragrant drink. San Francisco-based spirit and cocktail expert Vivian Cromwell (The Tipsy Muse) created a drink called The Heart of Darkness, which contains chinotto liqueur, Hamilton Rum, Fernet Branca, lime juice, and blackberry sage syrup. The original recipe comes from David Kwiatkowski, but Cromwell adapted the ingredients to obtain, in her words, “a bittersweet finish.”
The small orange fruit is also a great candidate for sweet and sour marmalade, like the one prepared by Portland chef and gardener Jen McCabe (@honeykennedy). She creates a specialty toast using whole wheat date walnut sourdough toast as the base and chinotto orange blossom jam, goat cheese, vanilla, and sea salt for the topping. Need I say more to intensify your breakfast cravings? Another marmalade recipe comes from Southern California-based food blogger Sophie James, who reflects, “I came across some chinottos and needed to put them to good use. There are so many things you can do with them! Bitter oranges and their peels freeze well, so, if you’re ever in doubt, always say yes. Their juice is a good replacement for lemon or lime, especially when preparing richer meats like duck.”
“Pisci d'uovo”-style red mullet with crispy fishbone from Il Duomo. Credit: © Benedetto Tarantino
Ciccio Sultano, owner and executive chef of two-Michelin-starred Il Duomo in Ragusa, pays homage to the herbaceous citrus that’s commonly found in Sicily but lesser-known throughout other parts of Italy. One of his signature dishes, “Pisci d’ uovo”-style red mullet with crispy fishbone, is a tribute to his home.
"The use of candied fruit in Sicilian cuisine, and generally speaking all over Italian cuisine, is widespread,” explains the chef. “For my Palermo-style Scaccia, for example, I wanted to replace the raisins (which are more traditional) with the chinotto, pushing the citrus notes as the primary catalyst, being [that] Arabs [are] masters of candied fruits. In the recipe for this dish, one of my signatures from Sicilian Dominations, the Chinotto is the citric element that enhances all the other flavors."
Chinotto marmalade (Sophie Games, Stories from the Stove)
Adapted from Pam Corbin, River Cottage Handbook No.2: Preserves
Ingredients:
1 kg (2.25 lb) Chinottos
75 ml (5 tbsp) lemon juice
2 kg (4.5 lb) Demerara sugar
2.5 litres (4½ pints) of water
Makes 5-6 450g (1lb) jars
Method:
Begin by squeezing the juice from the chinottos into a jug. Remove all the pulp, pith, and pips as you go and place them on a square of muslin or cheesecloth laid over a bowl; this contains the pectin which will enable your marmalade to set. Now cut the peel into shreds and add it to the juice. I like mine fine cut, but you may prefer a chunkier, more manly ‘lade. As you go, add any lingering pith or pips to the muslin. The lemon juice is added to the pan with the sugar, not before. When you’re done, add 3 pints (6 cups) of water to the juice and peel, tie up the muslin to form a small bag – make sure nothing will escape – and add that too. Leave in a cool place overnight. The emphasis on weight rather than individual oranges helps keep the ratios balanced, but always taste as you go. I often add three-quarters of the warmed sugar to the juice and taste, then add some more, taking it bit by bit; only you know your sweetness threshold.
The next day, tip the juice and peel into a large saucepan, or preserving pan, and tie the muslin bag to the handle so that it bobs like a cork in the liquid (but doesn’t touch the bottom). I add an extra pint (2 cups) of water here as I find the muslin bag draws up a lot of the juice even after I’ve wrung it out a few times. Now is the time to put some saucers in the freezer so you can begin testing later. Bring the liquid gently to the boil and then lower the heat and simmer. It is ready when the peel is completely soft – you can test a piece by pressing it between your finger and thumb. This can take anything from 35 minutes to an hour and a half; be aware that once sugar meets rind, it will no longer soften. Pour your sugar into a roasting dish and warm gently in the oven (200F) for about 10 minutes. This helps it to dissolve quickly later.
When the peel is ready, lift out the muslin bag and leave it on a plate until it’s cool enough to handle. Pour the sugar into the pan and stir over very low heat until it has dissolved. When there are no crystals left, increase the heat and bring the marmalade to a rolling boil. Now squeeze every last bit of the jelly-like pectin that oozes from the muslin bag into the pan (I use a spoon to cream it off). Every little helps here, so be vigilant. Skim off any froth or scum that comes to the surface and leave the marmalade at a fast boil for 15 minutes. Now put a tablespoon of it on one of the cold saucers and let it cool in the fridge. If when you push the marmalade with your finger the mixture crinkles like a furrowed brow, then you have a “set.” Keep testing at 10-minute intervals until it has reached setting consistency. If you find this too much of a faff, a thermometer is a reliable alternative; when it reads 221F (105C), it’s ready. Leave the marmalade to settle for about 15 minutes, otherwise, all of the peel will float to the top of the jar. Ladle into sterilized jars and seal immediately. Label when completely cold.