Quince consort
There comes a time every autumn when I start to get a little tired of cooking quince desserts. There is no doubt that at the beginning of the season there is great excitement when the first tray of ruby red fruit emerges from its long, slow roast overnight, its beautiful scent hanging in the kitchen for all to marvel at.
But after a steady parade of quince and pear crumble, quince tarte Tatin, quince turnovers, steamed quince puddings and quince tarts, the novelty starts to wear off. And like all deeply seasonal fruits, you start to look elsewhere for inspiration on how to use them.
Really, though, there is no need to look any further than the historical genus of the fruit. Anyone from the Afghans, to the Turks, to the Greeks will claim the quince as their own. The fruit features heavily in many Persian and Mediterranean cuisines. Turned into paste, into spoon sweets and added to tagines, it romps across the continent in many guises, proving to be an incredibly versatile fruit.
I came across this recipe some years ago and it has become my favourite to move on to once I’m over the “sweet” quince thing. It features Persian overtones, Moroccan influences and rich flavours that are perfect as the nights get colder. The quince melds into the sum of the parts rather than being the hero of the dish, but is unmistakably there in the flavour profile, adding an austere and redolent note to the rich meat of a lamb shank.