Savouring the moment

and a recipe for old-fashioned blood orange marmalade

sa·vour

/ˈsāvər/

verb

1. taste (good food or drink) and enjoy it completely.

   "gourmets will want to savour our game specialties"

While there’s more than one meaning to the word, the act of savouring is most commonly associated with food. After all, savouring something delicious is one of life’s great pleasures, something we can experience every day. Whether we’re sharing a convivial meal with dear ones, enjoying a special evening at a favourite restaurant, or even sneaking a piece of rich and melty chocolate mid-afternoon, our palates are at the ready to please. A moment of delight derived through the simple act of consumption.

There’s a second, perhaps less frequently used meaning for savour: to enjoy or appreciate (something pleasant) completely, especially by dwelling on it, as in “I wanted to savour every minute.” This act of savouring takes in all of life’s gifts of joy, big and small.

And yet, so much can get in the way of truly savouring the moment, whatever that moment might be. Chris Bailey, author of the new book How to Calm Your Mind, recently wrote, “Think about the delicious meals you distractedly scarf down in front of the TV. Or the family gatherings you can’t fully immerse yourself in because your mind is still anxious about work. There are countless daily experiences we rush past because we don’t savor them—everything from our morning coffee to time with people we love. Experiences, in other words, that make life good.”

The key takeaway? As Bailey says, just because you experience something enjoyable doesn’t mean you derive enjoyment from it.

The science of savouring

Bailey is a productivity consultant, author and researcher who has spent the last decade thinking about how to make every minute count. Post-college, he took a year-long sabbatical to devour and deconstruct everything he could about the subject of productivity. While he spent much time researching and talking to experts, he also used himself as a test subject for myriad ideas. Meditating 35 hours a week, working 90 hours a week, getting up at 5:30 am, living isolation and living only on water…every “experiment” led to new insights.

Far from satisfying his curiosity on the subject, Bailey has made the pursuit of intentionality his life’s purpose. In the process, he’s written three books on the subject, and generously shares his passion and insights on his website. He’s continued to seek out new ideas and explore the many ways we humans can lead better, more fulfilling lives.

In his latest book, Bailey digs into the science of “savouring.” In this context, savouring is defined as “the process of converting positive experiences into positive emotions.” And that science is encouraging: it turns out that the more we enjoy everyday experiences, the calmer and more focused we become.

Savouring the possibilities

How to Calm Your Mind is a nifty guide to help us all on our life’s journey. As Bailey explores the themes of productivity, anxiety, burnout, and calm, he shares practices that can guide us in savouring more, and more fully. Perhaps one of my favourite ideas is that savouring the past, or savouring the possibilities of the future, are equally beneficial as the here and now.

Sure, there are many moments we’d rather rush through. Slow as molasses traffic…going to the dentist…shovelling snow first thing in the morning…none of those are on my list of favourite things. But if I can listen to a great book while I’m commuting, if I can focus on the healthy outcome of my dentist visit, if I can marvel at the snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes and silver-white winters that melt into spring—then I may well turn those moments into ones to savour.

Blood orange marmalade

adapted from Culinary Hill

makes approximately 6 pint jars

There is something deeply satisfying about eating an orange in the dead of winter.  The juicy flesh defies the snowscape outside, and the sweet and sometimes tangy taste is an antidote to Mother Nature's heavy grey skies. 

Sure, you can buy an orange any time of the year, but now is the time to savour the fleeting season of the best of citrus fruits. Seville oranges, with scarred and angry skin; delicate Meyer lemons, sweet and so deeply hued as to be almost orange; and my personal favourite, blood oranges, with their shockingly deep red flesh.

When the thermometer is dipping below zero, making marmalade is therapeutic and rewarding. The best part is savouring the fruits of your labour for many months to come.

NOTE: This recipe will take two days from start to finish, most of it hands off, so read on! It uses an old school method of soaking the fruit overnight that I first read about in the Essential New York Times Cookbook. On sugar: jam recipes typically use a 1:1 fruit to sugar ratio—for example, for one pound of fruit, you would use one pound of sugar. I like to use a 1:¾ ratio instead. The fruit flavour shines through and the jam is less cloyingly sweet. If you like your marmalade on the tart side, you can reduce the sugar to a 1:⅔ ratio. For full instructions on how to do a hot water bath for jam, see this excellent step by step guide from Ball.

Ingredients

3 pounds blood oranges, about 6, scrubbed clean

6 cups water

2¼ pounds sugar, about 4½ cups (see headnote)

Special equipment: 6 pint mason jars, lids, canning funnel and tongs

1. Cut oranges in half crosswise, then into very thin half-moon slices. Discard any seeds. In a large stainless steel pot, add the sliced oranges and any accumulated juices.

2. Add 6 cups water and bring the mixture to a boil. Boil for 30 minutes. Remove from the heat, transfer to a large non reactive bowl (do not drain), cover, and let stand overnight at room temperature.

3. The next day, measure the fruit mixture, either by weight or volume and place in a large stainless steel pot. Add sugar in a 1:¾ ratio (see headnote). Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring to dissolve sugar. Reduce heat to low and simmer uncovered for 2 hours.

4. Turn heat up to medium and boil gently, stirring often, for another 30 minutes. Cook the marmalade until it reaches 220 degrees. To test if the marmalade is ready, place a small amount on a plate and put it in the freezer. Check it after a couple of minutes. If it is runny, cook for another 10-15, checking again for doneness.

5. Pour the marmalade into clean hot mason jars; wipe the rims thoroughly with a clean damp paper towel, and seal with the lids (see headnote for link to step by step canning guide).

6. Once cool, the jars are shelf stable for up to one year.