Now I’m not talking about music jams — I’m talking about the sweet, sticky, preserve-on-toast kind of jams.
I don’t know what it is, but every winter I suddenly develop a craving for marmalade and other jams. The other day I was reading a novel by Ken Follett, The Key to Rebecca. Somewhere in the story, Frank Cooper’s marmalade was mentioned as part of a breakfast, and immediately I started thinking about marmalade.
When I lived in Randburg, it was easy enough to pop over to Illovo and visit Thrupps, and they always seemed to have a wonderful selection of imported jams and marmalades, including Frank Cooper’s. When I visited again in December 2025, most of them had disappeared from the shelves. Perhaps supply issues, perhaps changing tastes — who knows?
Anyway, yesterday I was lucky enough to find a jar of Frank Cooper’s marmalade in a Cape Town supermarket. I won’t tell you where because they only had a few jars left and everyone will rush there and buy them. I’m joking, of course. I’m sure more stock will arrive.
It’s not only marmalade that appeals to me. Winter seems to bring on a craving for all sorts of jams. My all-time favourite is Bonne Maman’s cherry preserve. It’s delicious on toast with cheese, but it’s also fantastic on a freshly baked scone. Sometimes I make a quick scone in the air fryer, add some fresh cream, a little grated cheese and then a generous spoonful of that cherry jam. Not exactly health food, but wonderfully comforting on a cold day.
Talking about marmalade reminds me of my cousin Carol. She posted on Instagram recently that she was back to making marmalade. Naturally, I immediately asked her to put aside a bottle for me. She has promised one, although I suspect I may have to wait until the first batch is actually made.
That, in turn, reminds me of my mother Myra. She was always making jams and preserves. The ones I remember best were fig jam and waatlemoenkonfyt. My love of jam probably started there, watching jars being filled and stored away for the months ahead.
Curiously, I don’t think much about jam during summer. Winter is another story entirely. Perhaps it’s psychological. Maybe when the weather turns cold we all look for foods that are comforting and familiar. I don’t eat many sweet things these days apart from the occasional chocolate or slice of cake, but somehow a spoonful of marmalade on toast feels entirely justified.
Years ago, it seemed as though every family had a grandmother, mother, aunt or even grandfather making jam. It still happens, but perhaps not quite as commonly as it once did. Then again, I live in a fairly small world, so perhaps more preserving is happening than I realise.
What I do know is that jam-making isn’t disappearing. In fact, it’s evolving. In Soweto, one entrepreneur took his grandmother’s tomato jam recipe and turned it into a successful product sold through Makro. Across the country, farm stalls continue to stock homemade preserves, and social media is full of people sharing recipes and preserving techniques. The old traditions are finding new life.
As for South Africans, they certainly love our jam. Apricot remains the national favourite, but strawberry, mixed fruit, fig and grape preserves all have loyal followings. Then there are the uniquely South African treats such as green fig preserve, waatlemoenkonfyt, gooseberry jam and tomato jam.
There is always a debate between local and imported jams. To be honest, there aren’t many imported brands that excite me. Frank Cooper’s marmalade and Bonne Maman are probably the two that I seek out. The others often don’t appeal to me simply because I didn’t grow up with those flavours.
One of my most memorable jam experiences happened recently at Gifberg near Vanrhynsdorp. The farmer’s wife, who runs the chalets, makes preserves from the fruit trees growing in her garden. She showed me the quince tree from which she made a batch of quince jam. There was something special about standing in front of a tree that quietly produces fruit year after year, knowing that its harvest ends up in jars enjoyed by guests. Needless to say, I finished every last spoonful of that quince jam.
The market for jams and preserves in South Africa remains healthy and growing. Supermarket shelves are packed with everything from apricot and strawberry to mixed fruit and marmalade. Artisan producers continue to experiment with new flavours, while traditional favourites remain firmly entrenched.
So if you’re feeling the winter chill and find yourself reaching for a jar of jam, you’re certainly not alone.
The good news is that in South Africa, if you’re ever in a jam about jam, you’ll probably never be short of jam.
