Every morning, Dmitri Mendeleev enjoyed a large mug of piping-hot, strong, sweet tea with his favourite treat — blackcurrant preserve. This was one of the scientist’s little rituals, a familiar pleasure that set the mood for the day ahead.

Dmitri Mendeleev is best known for creating the Periodic Table of the Elements, yet his interests reached well beyond chemistry. As editor of the chemical and industrial section of the Brockhaus and Efron Encyclopaedic Dictionary, he wrote numerous articles for it on subjects ranging from highly specialised topics such as "Atomic Weights" and "Evaporation" to everyday matters one would hardly associate with the scientist. Among the articles was "Fruit Preserves", co-authored with nutrition expert Dmitry Kanshin. Mendeleev treated the making of preserves like a scientific experiment, one that required discipline and an understanding of its physical and chemical processes.

In 19th-century Russia, fruit preserves were an essential part of the tea table. They accompanied fresh pastries and blini, or sat at the centre of the table as an invitation to linger over a long, cordial conversation. By the turn of the century, making fruit preserves in aristocratic households had become almost a ritual rather than a simple chore. At Shakhmatovo, the estate where Aleksandr Blok spent his childhood, they were made with exceptional care and attention. The poet’s aunt, Maria Beketova, described this tradition in her book "Shakhmatovo: A Family Chronicle".

Shakhmatovo brought together the literary and scientific circles of its time. Aleksandr Blok’s grandfather, botanist and Rector of the Imperial St. Petersburg University Andrei Beketov, was a close friend and neighbour of Mendeleev. Following the chemist’s advice, Beketov purchased the estate, which later became the family’s ancestral home. In this place, science and precision met daily routine and family traditions. In devising his formula for the perfect fruit preserves, the great scientist seemed to remind us that chemistry does not belong only in the laboratory, but can also be found in the kitchen — and that the art of cooking is itself a kind of science, demanding attention to detail and respect for the process.

Jam became popular in Russia considerably later, as a result of significant social, economic and cultural changes. The development of domestic horticulture and fruit cultivation was an important factor: during the 18th and 19th centuries, fruit trees and berry bushes were actively cultivated throughout the country, providing an ample supply of fruit and berries for the production of preserves.

European culinary culture was also gaining influence, with the Russian aristocracy willingly embracing traditions from abroad. Since jam was already a well-established part of both everyday and festive cuisine in Europe, it soon attracted growing interest among the Russian nobility. In time, this interest extended beyond the product itself to the recipes and techniques used to prepare it.

Another important factor was the development of trade and transport infrastructure. Growing international trade and the expansion of the railway network facilitated the supply of certain ingredients and accelerated the spread of new culinary trends throughout Russia.

The first jam production facilities in Russia were established in the first half of the 19th century. At first, production was largely based on landed estates, which had both orchards and sufficient resources to support small-scale manufacturing. Later, urban businesses began producing jam as well, and during the second half of the century, sustained economic growth had brought a significant expansion and greater organisation to the industry.

By the end of the 19th century, merchant Aleksei Abrikosov had established himself as a leading figure in Russia's confectionery industry. His products were repeatedly awarded prizes at All-Russian exhibitions, and two images of the Russian Imperial coat of arms adorned their packaging.

Jam-making involved several key stages. The process began with selecting ripe fruit and berries, which helped achieve the right texture. The fruit was then sorted and any spoiled pieces were removed, washed and, if necessary, pitted, destemmed or peeled. The next stage was to crush the fruit — by hand at home, using mortars, graters or wooden spatulas, and with specialised crushing machines in larger-scale production. The fruit mixture was then placed in large copper or enamelled pots and cooked with sugar, stirring constantly to prevent scorching.

To check whether the jam had reached the right texture, a drop was placed on a cold saucer, and if it held its shape without spreading, the jam was considered ready. The finished jam was then poured while still hot into sterilised jars and sealed tightly, helping to preserve its freshness and flavour over time.

The dense texture of this delicacy makes it an ideal companion to morning toast, biscuits, or pancakes — another of Dmitry Mendeleev’s favourite indulgences. The renowned chemist was generally moderate at the table, yet he always looked forward to Maslenitsa and could never resist a lacy, golden pancake: "I love the damned things, even though they’re bad for me," the professor would say.

The jelly-like consistency of the confiture comes from its high pectin content. Gooseberries and redcurrants are a rich natural source of this gelling agent, ensuring that desserts set with little assistance. But we decided to improve the recipes from Mendeleev’s time and made an apple confiture that preserved the warmth of sunny summer days and the sweetness of the fruit.

There are countless ways to preserve the summer harvest for winter and enhance the fresh, vibrant flavour of vegetables. Quick pickled and smashed cucumbers are a perfect accompaniment to many dishes, while brined cucumbers — or pickled in vinegar, as they are prepared at the University, — offer a valuable source of vitamins during the colder months.

The family of Andrei Beketov, the Imperial St. Petersburg University’s Rector and a distinguished botanist, was also fond of homemade preserves. His wife, Yelizaveta Karelina, is mentioned in "Shakhmatovo: A Family Chronicle", where she is described as "relieved of the usual kitchen duties, yet had a particular love and talent for two things: making fruit preserves and preparing marinades and pickles from mushrooms, beetroot and plums".

Interestingly, SPbU scientists have found ways to grow vegetables even in the far north. Several years ago, biologists from St. Petersburg State University helped reindeer herders in the Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous District grow their own vegetables, making it possible to cultivate crops in the permafrost zone at the 70th parallel north.

In the area around Seyakha, the "Ilebts" indigenous people — a name that translates from Nenets into Russian as "the foundation of life" or "that which sustains us" — succeeded in growing vegetables with the support of SPbU scientists. University experts analysed soil samples and developed recommendations for growing crops in greenhouses and in the open field. Today, Russia’s northernmost vegetable garden produces potatoes, beetroot, radishes, tomatoes and cucumbers.