How to Make Mango Chutney, in the Fairy-Accredited Manner

This one's got pictures!

This week's Tuesday Blog post is a how-to. The secrets of the Mango Chutney Fairy are told. Well, some of them. I know nothing yet of her amazing abilities in invisibility, or breaking-and-entering. Perhaps they're related? Either way, I don't know. 

But...

Making chutney - turns out I can do that!

DISCLAIMER TIME: This is not going to be a recipe. This is a recipe. So is this. That second one there is pretty close to what I did - I have a sneaky feeling that Delia may have pinched her recipe off our very own Mango Chutney Fairy. This is a series of very vague instructions, which as near as I can permit myself to come to using a recipe. Can't handle being told what to do.

Everyone ready? Let's do this!

Ingredients:
Mangoes
Sugar
Vinegar
Assorted Spices
Onions
Butter

First things first. Chop up your mangoes, 6-8 of them. Cover in brown sugar, cover the bowl with cling film and leave for a while. A few hours, overnight. In our case 2 days in the fridge. This seems to make them release a bit of liquid, which is probably a good thing - who wants dry chutney, after all?

Yes, this is where my teapot lives.

Next up. Whooze. Leave as much of the cling film on as you can and still get the mixer in. Saves a lot of laundry and wiping. We whoozed our mangoes with smooth chutney in mind. For less-smooth, edgier chutney, rewind to the "chop your mangoes" instruction, and do more chopping.

Blend till it looks like something you don't want to step in.

Possibly number three. Onions. Two small white ones in our case, but it's probably a case of whatever you've got handy. Red onions might make it look funky. Chop 'em. really really tiny. My Mum has another electric whoozey thing that would do it for you, but I don't believe in the amount of washing up it creates. Big sharp knife for me every time. Leave the onions waiting, they can handle it. 

Tangent. The onions in question came from these lovely, vegetable-throwing ladies. And they were Evil*. This is a picture of me crying, and of L "Eyes-of-Steel" being suspicious and deeply unsympathetic.

Still doesn't portray the sheer volume of water leaking out of my face.

'Nuff tangents. There's chutney to be made here. Where were we? The onions have been chopped and are now on the naughty step thinking about what they have done. 

Step fourish. Open the spices cupboard. Let's call that step 4:1

Open it carefully.

4:2, We're after these guys. Our spicy little line-up as follows: Ginger (better fresh and chopped up tiny, but there are austere times), Turmeric (mostly for colour), Coriander, Cardamom pods (bash them up a bit if you feel frustrated, otherwise just whack 'em in), Cumin and Cloves.

It was that one, Officer. It was 'im wot dunnnit**. 

Chuck a quantity of "some" of each in to a pan with a teeny bit of oil or butter.

Add heat. After not very long, add the now-remorseful onions. Forgive them. It's not their fault your eyes are wimps. Stir it round a bit till everything is beige.

Mostly these pictures are here it you're interested in the quantities of stuff that went in to this. 

This bit, with the evil onions and the added spicy things, is a killer on the eyes.

I have no idea which way up this ought to go, but as I can't turn it, here you go. 

Step five (are we on five yet) - Add vinegar. Somewhere short of a whole one of these bottles is what the Mango Chutney Fairy advises, or so I'm told. 

This is what vinegar looks like.

Steps 6, 7, 8, and possibly even nine. Add heat and elbow grease. Boil for hours, stirring often. "Sorry I can't come out tonight, I'm stirring my chutney". Don't let it burn. This stuff is essentially very hot acid-sugar. When it splurts, it hurts***. Keep those googles on. 

A few hours later, when it has passed through the "applesauce phase", which is like puberty for chutney (in that it smells a bit funny, is very unco-operative and yet quite near to being ready), and starts to look like chutney you can do the Test. This is the official Fairy-Approved for ascertaining whether or not it's Done Yet. Take your spatula. Move it across the bottom of the pan. This is a lot like stirring. If you can see the bottom of the pan before the boiling red sea of chutney closes in again, it is officially Done Yet. 

Let's call this bit step ten. About fifteen minutes before this magical point (God knows how you know when that is, ask Delia), find some glass jars and put them in the oven. By now you'll be on constant stirring duty and might need to ask a friend to help. Doubly so if you've left your Spongebob Squarepants oven gloves in another room. 

Pour hot chutney in to hot jars, trying very hard not to die. This might be a job to ask an adult to help with. Put the lids on WITH THE OVEN GLOVES and leave on a heat-proof surface. 

Photograph this achievement.

Step 11. Mature for a while. About 2 months? Leave the Mango Chutney alone as well.
Step 12. Give to all your friends! Those two tiny pots might get to come camping with us, so I'm only allowed 5 friends.

That's it Ladies and Gents. I leave you with another picture of me crying. Just cos.

*Evil onions. The ladies are highly unlikely to be evil. I cannot picture how organic small-scale vegetable farming would fit in to a grand scheme for world domination. If you can, please write in. 

**Cardamom. Sneaky little things. Hanging out in their pods, like dolphins. 

*** I should not be allowed out. Or to have an internet connection. Sorry for that one.