Rhubarb, Lychee & Gin Jam

Aug 20
4 min read

A jam that shouldn't work as well as it does — tart pink rhubarb, sweet floral lychees, and a good glug of gin, cooked down into something glossy and utterly moreish. This one was created for the Root Chakra week of Cook in Colour, and it's stuck around as a house favourite ever since. Spread thick on a warm scone or crumpet with clotted cream, or spoon it straight from the jar.

Makes approx 2-3 jars

Prep: 10 minutes (plus overnight macerating) Cook: 15-20 minutes

Ingredients

Rhubarb, chopped (approx 500g)
230g tin of lychees, drained and chopped
450g granulated sugar
2 tbsp lemon juice (plus grated lemon rind, if you like)
2 tbsp gin (a straightforward pub gin — Gordon's or Beefeater works perfectly)

Method

Chop the rhubarb and the drained lychees into small, even pieces. Add the rhubarb, lychees, sugar, lemon juice (and rind, if using) and gin to a large bowl. Stir well to combine. Cover and leave in the fridge overnight to macerate — the sugar will draw out the juices and start breaking down the fruit. If you're short on time, a few minutes in the microwave will kick-start the same process. Tip everything into a deep, heavy-bottomed pan. Cook over medium heat, stirring regularly to stop it catching on the bottom. Simmer for around 15 minutes, until the rhubarb has completely broken down and the sugar is fully dissolved into a glossy, deep amber jam. Test the consistency by spooning a little onto a cold plate — it's ready when it holds its shape and doesn't run. Pour into sterilised jars while still hot, seal, and leave to cool completely before storing.

Notes

Sterilise your jars by washing in hot soapy water, then drying in a low oven (or run them through a hot dishwasher cycle) before filling. The gin adds a subtle juniper warmth rather than an overt alcoholic note — it mellows completely once cooked. Keeps for several months unopened; once opened, store in the fridge. Try it warmed slightly and spooned over vanilla ice cream, or stirred into porridge.

An original recipe by Sharon for Cook in Colour — Series 2. thenofussgourmet.com

The Origin Story

This jam was born from the kind of happy accident that makes the best cooking. A box of rhubarb arrived from a local restaurant supply delivery — fresh, pink, just coming into season. A tin of lychees sat in the pantry, leftover from something else entirely. And there was a memory of a gin-based preserve recipe seen somewhere, sometime before. The thought was simple: rhubarb and lychee. Why not? The tartness of the rhubarb would cut through the floral sweetness of the lychee, and a splash of gin would tie it all together with a warm juniper edge. The result was better than anyone expected — glossy, amber, and impossible to stop eating.

A Foot in Two Worlds

The flavours of this jam sit at a crossroads. Rhubarb is as British as it gets — a staple of cottage gardens, school puddings, and Sunday crumbles for centuries. Lychee belongs to another world entirely: the tropics of South and Southeast Asia, where it's been cultivated for over a thousand years. That meeting of British and Asian ingredients reflects how we cook at home. Indian and Pakistani food is a constant presence in our kitchen — the spice cupboard is always open, the rice is always on. This jam borrows from that spirit of cross-cultural confidence. It doesn't ask whether rhubarb and lychee belong together. It just makes them work.

A Rhubarb Childhood

Rhubarb is one of those foods that carries childhood with it. My grandmother grew it in her back garden when we were growing up — great green crowns of it, forcing their way up through the Scottish soil every spring. We'd snap off a stalk, dip it in a bowl of sugar, and eat it raw. That sharp, sour bite followed by the sweet crunch of sugar — it's a taste memory shared by British children across generations. You didn't need a recipe. You didn't need a reason. You just needed a rhubarb plant and a sugar bowl. That memory is the real ingredient in this jam. The rhubarb from the delivery box, the tin of lychee from the cupboard — they're just the latest version of that same childhood impulse: take what's growing, take what's to hand, and make something good.

Dundee: The Jam Capital

Dundee was once known as the city of the Three Js — Jute, Jam, and Journalism. For over a century, it was one of the jam and preserve capitals of the world. The story goes back to 1797, when a Spanish ship carrying a cargo of Seville oranges sought shelter in Dundee harbour during a storm. James Keiller, a local grocer, bought the cargo on speculation. The oranges were too bitter to eat fresh, so his mother Janet Keiller boiled them down with sugar and created what we now know as marmalade. That accident of weather and commerce birthed an industry. James Keiller & Sons became one of the most famous preserve brands in the world, and Dundee's jam factories fed Britain for generations. The city's berry fields on the Carse of Gowrie supplied fruit to the factories, and the River Tay carried ships loaded with Dundee jam to ports across the empire. I was born in Dundee. Growing up, we were fed Mrs Keiller's jam and steeped in the city's preserve-making heritage. Making jam today — standing at the stove, watching fruit and sugar transform into something glossy and golden — feels like a thread running all the way back to that harbour and that storm and that first pot of marmalade. This recipe isn't marmalade. It's not even traditional. But it's made in the same spirit that Janet Keiller brought to her kitchen over two hundred years ago: take what you have, make something good, and don't be afraid to try something new.

An original recipe by Sharon for Cook in Colour — Series 2. thenofussgourmet.com