QUINCE CHARMING
Spotlight on the ugly duckling of the fruit world
If you’re struggling to picture a quince, don’t feel bad: most of us have probably used it more often as a Scrabble word than a snack. Quinces occupy the same niche as crab apples and loquats – unfamiliar without being glamorously exotic. To be fair, quinces don’t exactly sell themselves. Except in the balmiest climates, they’re inedible raw – hard and puckery – and coaxing them into succulence takes a fair bit of prep. Visually, they look like a pear that lives in its mother’s basement and plays video games all day: squat, knobbly and covered with a greyish layer of fuzz.
Which is a shame, because quinces are really rather glorious. When they ripen, their fragrance changes from mildly pleasant in a peary kind of way to an unmissable, hit-you-in-the-face f loral, tropical perfume. And when slowly poached or roasted, they taste just as good. Even their pallid, potato-coloured flesh transforms to a gorgeous rosy-red.
Historically, quinces were highly regarded as air fresheners, medicine and food. The quince was even associated during the medieval period with Eden’s forbidden fruit – a fact that perhaps becomes less romantic when you learn that other contenders included bananas, carob pods, apricots, wheat berries and (I kid you not) psychedelic mushrooms.
Short of growing your own, farmers’ markets are the best bet for acquiring quinces. Judge ripeness by scent, not colour – if the fragrance isn’t startlingly intense, the quince isn’t ready.
Quinces can be roasted with honey or grated raw into stews and left to simmer, but the most popular method of preparation is poaching. Cooking the fruit ever so slowly in syrup allows the texture and colour to metamorphose, although the internet is full of panicked cooks asking why their quinces turned brown instead of pink.
The secret is to add a splash of acid to the poaching liquid – vinegar or lemon juice will do, or red wine – and not to rush the poaching process. Two hours is normal. The colour of both the syrup and fruit will darken on standing.
Poaching also allows for the addition of flavour enhancers such as fresh ginger, cinnamon sticks, lemon zest or whole star anise (as pictured left). Quince also tastes good with rosewater, commonly added in medieval recipes. (Bone marrow and the pounded f lesh of a pheasant, also medieval additions, I can’t vouch for – but hey, they might be fabulous.)
But the absolute height of glory a quince can attain is membrillo. Alternatively known as quince paste, leather, cheese or pâté, it is a mouldable, sliceable, sweet concoction served on crackers with cheese. Most membrillo recipes involve poaching the quinces, puréeing them and then drying the purée over a low heat. The following recipes make use of the syrup from poached fruit so you end up with two for the price of one: membrillo plus quince jelly.