2014 film brought only a slight boost to the bear’s favourite spread, which is now mainly the preserve of older people

Even Paddington Bear, it seems, is having a hard time saving his beloved marmalade from an inexorable decline.

As the spread’s greatest international ambassador, Paddington has long been an important part of marmalade’s branding process. But a survey has revealed that the once popular spread is now mainly the preserve of older generations, with about 60% of sales going to the over-65s and just 1% to those under 28. The overwhelming majority of purchases – 89% – were by empty-nesters and retirees, according to the survey of 30,000 UK households by consumer researchers Kantar Worldpanel.

While images of the Peruvian bear, known for keeping an emergency stash of marmalade sandwiches under his red felt hat, feature on leading brand Robertson’s Golden Shred – after his brief defection to savoury spread Marmite – overall sales of the bittersweet citrus spread have fallen by 4.7% since 2013, while chocolate and peanut butter spread each increased by 56%.

And yet there may be reason for hope among aficionados. Paddington still has a little impact: the release of his eponymous film in 2014 led to a slight lift, which may be replicated by its sequel, out this year.

And while sales may be down, marmalade is enjoying a renaissance among artisan producers and even drinks distillers. The World’s Original Marmalade awards has received record entries and its taste is finding favour with vodka drinkers.

If marmalade’s place in the pantheon really is at risk, it would mean the end of a long culinary tradition. Marmalade in Britain dates to at least the Tudors – Henry VIII received a box as a gift, though this was a quince-based hard paste. The name originates from marmelo, Portuguese for quince, while the Romans and Greeks enjoyed a forerunner, preserved quince in honey.

Mackays Vintage Dundee orange marmalade. Photograph: PR

The provenance of the chunky orange marmalade complete with peel we know today may originate in Scotland. There is an apocryphal story of a storm-damaged ship carrying Seville oranges seeking refuge in Dundee harbour where local merchant James Keiller bought the oranges cheaply, after which his wife, Janet, made a preserve and established a business.



However it came about, the Keillers established the first marmalade plant. “The first jar of marmalade as we know it today, which is the pulp with the peel, was first made in Dundee in 1797 by the Keiller family,” said Martin Grant, managing director at Mackays, which makes original Dundee orange marmalade using traditional copper-bottomed open pans.



Bucking the trend, Mackays – the third biggest brand in the UK and largest exported marmalade brand , selling to 93 markets globally – grew by 12% in the UK last year, said Grant.

“Provenance and taste are key,” he said, arguing good quality marmalade, like fine wine or cheese, is appreciated best by the older, more sophisticated palate.



Marmalade is not for children, despite Paddington, he said. “I think Paddington is a lovely, quizzical character, and he does a great job for marmalade, and we adore him. But I think if you’re too young and you taste marmalade – think how much sugar is eaten by the younger generation – it’s a bit of a shock to the system”.

Britain’s love of marmalade began with the Victorians who saw it as a status symbol. Through colonial administrators, who packed it in their travel trunks, it reached all corners of the British empire.



In the Victorian dinner party era bringing Seville oranges as a gift was the equivalent of posting Instagram pictures from desirable locations – “saying look how cool I am, I went to Seville and brought back these oranges,” according to James Chase, brand ambassador for Chase Distillery, maker of marmalade vodka.



Started and run by his father, William Chase, at the family’s Herefordshire farm, the company’s marmalade vodka was inspired by his grandmother’s homemade marmalade. “We love to shake it up with ice, strain it into a martini glass, garnish it with orange peel – a breakfast martini,” said Chase, whose family company also founded Tyrrells English Crisps.



Today it is one of their bestsellers and is found in some of the world’s top bars. “Marmalade has always had these trends,” said Chase. “One day it’s the talk of the fashion industry, like when Victoria Beckham was craving it during her pregnancy. The next it’s a stodgy old jam that’s been forgotten about.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Marmalade: part of the fabric of British life. Photograph: Felicity Cloake/The Guardian

“But I think, made well, marmalade is such a British classic that it will always stand the test of time”.

Jane Hasell-McCosh, who 12 years ago started the World’s Original Marmalade awards and festival at Dalemain, a Georgian mansion just outside Penrith in Cumbria, said sales and interest in artisan marmalade had increased year on-year.

The awards started with 60 jars, “and now we are up to 3,000 this year”. Entrants come from all over the world. “We got a lot from Japan this year and it was fascinating how many different citrus fruits there are in Japan that I’d never heard of,” said McCosh.



The awards ceremony is on 18 March. Her favourite category is a marmalade to be eaten with savoury food. “It still had to be dominantly citrus, but it could be eaten with fur, fish or fowl. It has been the most innovative and interesting category,” she said. No vinegar, she stressed, otherwise it’s not marmalade, it’s chutney.



Nigel Slater’s marmalade recipes Read more

Marmalade has woven its way into the fabric of British life. A “marmalade dropper”, for instance, is a term used to describe a newspaper story guaranteed to shock or surprise readers over breakfast.

“In the second world war, it is said, Winston Churchill insisted we must keep the marmalade orange boats coming,” said McCosh, “because, culturally, it would keep our morale up”.



She believes her awards have helped contribute to a renaissance in artisan marmalade, and that the market for traditional, artisan spreads from small producers is on the up.



As for the younger generation: “I’ve always thought marmalade is quite a sophisticated taste. It’s not sweet, it’s quite bitter, and children are very tempted by sweet things.”

Having said that, more and more young people are entering the awards. “We have got grannies and granddaughters. People are sharing the making of marmalade between generations. I don’t accept it is dying. We are engulfed in marmalade this year.”

