Thirteen Years-i was told marmalade wouldn't sell

1/16/2026

Thirteen years ago, on a cold winter day, Le Meadow’s Pantry was born.
I had just moved to Pemberton, British Columbia, a valley surrounded by mountains and forest. The land was covered in snow. Still, I knew what would come. Old cherry trees, black and red currant bushes, wild roses, a peach tree, and a rhubarb patch were waiting for spring.

That winter, I applied to farmers markets, built a website, and gathered jam and marmalade books. I bought copper pans; large, shallow, made especially for jam, long wooden spoons, funnels, and jars. So many jars. I read and imagined flavours, waiting for fruit.

The name Le Meadow’s Pantry comes from my childhood in the countryside in Québec. I grew up playing in meadows all summer long, with an old apple tree, wild berries, flowers, and all sorts of things that could fill a pantry.

The first idea was marmalade. I wanted the business to make marmalade only. I had always loved the bitter, distinct flavours of marmalade, but I didn’t know how it was made. I read more. I combined four favourite recipes and made my own thick-cut marmalade. That recipe won a silver award at the UK Marmalade Awards in 2019. It has never changed.

The second marmalade was grapefruit with smoked sea salt. It won two silver awards in the UK in 2021.

By March, my basement was filled with cases of marmalade, Meyer lemon, mandarin, blood orange, citron, Seville, kumquat. I had been accepted into four local farmers markets. The snow melted. The fields filled with dandelions.

I had been collecting jam and preserve recipes since I was twelve. In an old notebook, I found a dandelion confit recipe that began: “On the first day of spring, pick 365 dandelion flowers, one for each day of the year.”
I gathered baskets and sent my children into the fields. We worked quickly. Once the flowers turn to pollen, they cannot be used. In under two weeks, I made more than 200 jars of dandelion confit.

I was excited. I was afraid no one would buy it.

Then came the rhubarb. I paired it with rose petals. The sour cherry tree beside the house gave more fruit than we could handle.

On May 18, 2013, I attended my first market at the Shipyards in North Vancouver. The first jar I sold was dandelion confit, followed by grapefruit and smoked sea salt marmalade. That season, I offered six marmalades, dandelion confit, and rhubarb jam.

That summer, I cooked each fruit as it came into season. Every weekend, I packed my old Volkswagen Golf with jars, market equipment, two children, and our old dog Che, and drove to farmers markets.

By the end of summer, I knew this was what I would do.
We moved to Vancouver. I joined larger markets, winter fairs, and craft shows. I wanted the business to last.

In the second year, I knocked on shop doors. Some were curious. Others questioned the small batches, the copper pans. Many said marmalade wouldn’t sell. Too bitter.

I kept going.

I had worked in food for many years. I understood how taste connects to memory. I trusted that careful cooking and honest flavour would find its place.

I didn’t invent jam. I chose to make it as well as I could.

Thirteen years later, Le Meadow’s Pantry is still growing. We use the same copper pans as we did in 2013. The recipes haven’t changed. We work faster now, more organized, but the work is the same.

I still spend my weekends at farmers markets. Today, the preserves are also found in beautiful shops, cafés, and hotels.

Every jar is made the way it always has been.

I am deeply grateful to all of you who have supported me over these thirteen years, and who have embraced both the bitterness of marmalade and the sweetness of fruit.