When life hands you sour oranges, what do you make?

Speed shopping, which is a highly developed skill and a recognized competitive supermarket sport, can have its drawbacks.  I had to do a warp speed shop this weekend and bought what should have been blood oranges. The sign said blood orange, and if I’d taken a moment to actually look at the fruit before grabbing it, I would have noticed that it didn’t exactly look like a blood orange. 
Bleary eyed on Sunday morning,  I tried juicing them and that’s when I realized I was dealing with one powerfully bitter and sour juice. Elaine tried to eat one and called it lemon to the 10th power.  These are some kick ass oranges.

Not knowing what else to do with my very expensive and very sour oranges, which I’m pretty sure are Seville sour oranges, I turned them into marmalade.  The oranges were so acidic that peeling 7 or 8 of them puckered my hands as if I’d been in a swimming pool all day.  The ratio is about 1 ½ parts sugar to 1 part orange and it’s still mouth puckeringly sour, but at least it’s edible. I think the marmalade might be good layered into a shortbread cookie or as a thin glaze on roasted duck, but buyer beware, if you see Seville oranges on sale, know what you are getting into.

After taste testing the marmalade, I’m fairly certain I now have life long immunity to scurvy, so no more worries in that department.