A fragrant fruit to tempt Eve, Aphrodite and great-grandma too.
The quince is my mother's favorite fruit. There was a quince tree at my great-grandmother's house and I guess they bring back all sorts of fond memories because whenever she sees them-at a farmers' market or specialty store-she gets all misty-eyed and insists on buying them by the ton. I love quinces too, because they remind me of her, but also because they're so complicated and mysterious, like an aged French Burgundy or a David Lynch film.
This bumpy, furry, greenish-yellow thing that looks sort of like an apple is actually an ancient fruit that has changed very little over the thousands of years since it originated somewhere near Persia. The "golden apple" that Paris gave to Aphrodite was in fact a quince, and it came to be a common symbol of love and marriage. It is also believed that the fruit that tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden was actually a quince. And tempting they are, with an aroma so complex it would take a wine snob to come up with all the right adjectives. Pick up a quince and take a big sniff of the stem end and you'll smell something bright and strong; floral, but not like the rose, to which it is related; spicy, almost like one of those perfumes designed for both men and women.
The unfortunate thing about quinces is that you really can't eat them raw. I've heard that there are some varieties, grown in tropical climates, that ripen so fully that you can eat them right off of the tree. But of course we don't get those here. Full of tannins and pectin (the stuff that makes jelly gel), the flesh of an uncooked quince is shockingly and unpleasantly bitter. But that pectin comes in handy when you're trying to make something like marmalade, a firm fruit preserve that takes its name from the Portuguese word for quince,
marmelo
.
Because they need to be cooked, because apples are so much easier to eat, and probably for many other reasons, quinces have lost much of their popularity over the past few hundred years. They're considered old-fashioned and strange. But right now is prime quince season, when they pop up in our own markets, including many of our Mexican groceries.
Probably the most common use for quinces is to slice them thinly and add them to apple pie. Yes, I realize that people like your grandma will often tell you about the non-apple things that you can put in apple pie. And yes, I am inclined to agree that green apples don't really taste like apples, but hey, they do taste pretty good when baked in a pastry crust with cinnamon and sugar, don't they? So next time you're making an apple pie, try peeling, coring and thinly slicing a few quinces to toss in with the apples.
And speaking of tossing, toss a few "golden apples" in with those root vegetables you've hacked up to surround that pork roast. Think about it: quinces, parsnips, turnips, maybe some golden beets? Mmm-mmm good.
If you have a lot of quinces on hand and an asbestos-lined glove that reaches to your elbow, you can make your own quince paste, that sweet gummy stuff that tastes so heavenly when combined with manchego cheese. But what say you start with this simple recipe and move on from there?
Spiced Quinces
My favorite thing to do with quinces is just to throw them in a pot with sugar, spices and water and poach them until soft. Me, I eat them right out of the pot, double- and triple-dipping with a soupspoon. Other people ladle the cooked fruit into jars and save it to pour over waffles or ice cream, or to puree into a more interesting version of applesauce. Yes, 3 cups of honey is a lot. Feel free to use 1 cup honey and 2 cups sugar or whatever ratio works for you.
6 cups water
3 cups honey
1 cinnamon stick
12 cloves
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
1 star anise
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
4 to 6 ripe quinces
1) In a stockpot, combine water, sugar and spices. Bring mixture to a boil, stirring to dissolve honey and/or sugar, then remove from the heat and allow to cool slightly.
2) Rub the fuzz off of the fruits and wash them. I use a vegetable peeler to remove the rind, then a corer to remove the core before quartering, but if you don't have one, then simply quarter the quince and use a spoon to scrape out the seeds.
3) Add fruit to spiced syrup and invert a salad plate onto the surface of the fruit so that it remains submerged. Bring mixture to a slow simmer and cook for about 45 minutes, or until fruit is softened.
4) Remove from the heat and allow to cool slightly before spooning fruit into a resealable plastic container or glass jars.
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