Research for The Grocer magazine should depress all who consider the tang of preserved citrus fruit a vital fortification for the daily grind. Contempt for marmalade among Britons aged under 45 is propelling this most rewarding breakfast foodstuff towards extinction.

Last year 441,000 British households stopped buying marmalade. Among those still appreciative of its robust and bracing flavour, 81 per cent are aged 45 or over. The continental habit of smothering bread in jam has become dominant among people not yet enjoying middle age.

Of course, a taste for highly sweetened strawberries, raspberries or blackcurrants does not necessarily denote a treasonable frame of mind. The risk is that casual choices by people with immature, fast-food-sated palates will deprive them of a treat that they should grow to adore.

My current favourite, made from rough-cut Seville oranges, needs to be savoured slowly, not grabbed on the move. It is at its most satisfying on thick slabs of lightly toasted white bread, consumed with fresh coffee and a quality newspaper.

Granted, the Romans who first converted oranges into jelly did not know this; nor did the early medieval Spaniards who sold orange segments preserved in syrup as medicine. The 15th-century Portuguese chefs who gave marmalade its name made it from quinces and served it in slices.

But the history points to an aspect of marmalade’s charm. It is a diverse and multifaceted conserve which offers as many varieties as there are nuances of early morning mood and appetite. It can be made from limes and lemons as well as oranges. Americans have been known to experiment with jalapeño peppers. Texture varies between the smoothest jelly and sumptuous chunky concoctions capable of awakening the most jaded taste buds.

Many jams are a waste of fruit that would taste better eaten fresh with cream in a summer meadow, distilled into spirits or baked in pies. Few are more than instant sugar hits for a generation that deprecates breakfast as a mere necessity. Marmalade is soul food for those preparing to confront real responsibility. Winston Churchill deemed it an essential part of breakfast.

Those who reject it now should consider the long term. Damaging the marmalade market will not just leave them unable to describe to their children what Paddington Bear likes in his sandwiches. It will deprive them of a succulent solace that has fortified heroes and inspired genius.

I forgive youth its preference for celebrity over achievement. Its enthusiasm for inclusion where excellence should prevail is at least generous. But spurning marmalade is an act of negligence that undermines all claims to sophistication.