I found myself staring at a small group of lumpy, yellowish, fuzz-covered (or were they cob webs? I wondered at the time) fruits at a farm I visited this weekend and wondered what I could do with them. They were quince. I have tasted quince in various forms and have even fantasized quince–but I didn’t know much about them. I think they have a romantic quality, probably because they are so under used in main stream cooking here in the states. Your average American home wouldn’t necessarily be found with a bunch of quince hanging out in the fridge. However, they are popular in middle eastern cuisine and in the UK. The Brits utilize the quince’s high amount of pectin to make beautiful quince pastes, candies, and jellies. The quince paste is the form of quince I’ve tasted most–it’s like a chewy candy where you cut a little piece off and eat it with a nice slice of manchego cheese. Delish!

But I started delving into more history about the quince–where did it come from? Who used it? How did they eat it? Quince is not something you can just bite into like an apple– it is hard, sour, and incredibly astringent (makes your mouth pucker and immediately feel ‘dry’). Quince originates in Asia Minor and is commonly found in ancient texts by the Greeks and Turks. It is said that a quince, not an apple (based on the fact that there were no apples in that part of the world until the last century or two) is what tempted Eve and the golden apples of the Hesperides, given to Aphrodite by Paris of Troy, were probably quinces, too. My question is, how were these people eating these sour, little, fuzzy, hard fruits? How were they cooking them? Maybe they tasted differently back then or maybe people had different ideas about what tasted good (like what was “fashionable” to eat and taste)? I did look on one of my favorite historic food sites and found some interesting recipes, but they were mainly for the pastes. So I decided to take a more modern spin and find a few other uses for this unique fruit.

First–The Quince Preserves
I peeled and cut them down into quarters. I’ve heard that shredding them helps too. I then combined all the quince (about 6 pounds) into a pot with 8 cups water and 3 cups white sugar. I also threw in a few lemon peels, each about 2 inches long and 1/4 inch thick. Then, I boiled the heck out of them–for about an hour, maybe a little more. I then put them through the food processor and returned the mixture to the stove for another hour or so to really solidify. I then canned them, processing them in the boiler for 20+ minutes. The quince turn a lovely, soft, rosy pink while being cooked which is quite beautiful. The color change is such a nice surprise–it’s like the fruit is hinting at its true deliciousness and trying to tell you that all your cooking efforts will be greatly rewarded at the end. And they certainly were! I mainly followed the recipe from here.

The preserves were great–tangy, citrusy, and undeniably quince-like. It’s hard to describe! But then I found this site which is actually a wine website, that was describing the flavors of quince quite well.

Second–A Tart
I ended up making an amazing Italian-inspired tart crust and used the remaining preserves in a tart. It was well worth the trouble–I’ve been eating a slice of this with a dollop of fresh whipped cream every night since and will continue to do so until it is gone! Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures of it, but I am going to give you the recipe for the tart crust, it is fantastic. It has a earthy quality in texture that the cornmeal gives it with lovely hints of cloves and cinnamon. I love how it is crumbly next to the smoothness of the quince preserves and it’s spices heighten the quinces natural flavors. You could also use this tart crust with apple butter or figs or anything! I concocted this recipe myself and it will make regular rounds in my tart baking extravaganzas for sure:).

Spiced Cornmeal Tart Crust

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal (not stone-ground)
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 stick (1/2 cup) cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
2 teaspoons fresh ground cloves
2 teaspoons cinnamon
4 to 5 tablespoons ice water

Pulse together flour, cornmeal, sugar, spices, and salt in a food processor. Add butter and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal. Drizzle evenly with 4 tablespoons ice water and pulse until just incorporated. Gently squeeze a small handful. If it doesn’t hold together, add more water, 1/2 tablespoon at a time, pulsing after each addition and continuing to test. Press into your tart pan, use a rolling pin to top off the sides, and bake at 400 degrees F for about 25 mins. I like to cover my tart crusts with foil to keep some of the moisture in too. Then let cool for about 10 mins, add whatever tart filling you want to use and bake accordingly (to that specific use). With the quince preserves, I baked it for another 20 minutes, just to solidify things and give it a relatively firm top. I can never let mine cool for too long, so I always eat it warm, but if you let it cool, the slices will come out more in tact and firmer.

Third–Pizza
Yes, it is unconventional, but the pizza I created at my Eat My Story event in Seattle incorporated quince and it was delicious. The story went as follows:
I moved here three weeks ago from Port Angeles, Washington. What a move! I often reminisce about a few things in the area we lived in, such as the Lavender fields, the smell of the fresh salty sea air, and the huge Rosemary tree in our old yard. Yet, as I look around at our new, magnificent yard, I see many possibilities on the horizon. A beautiful old quince tree, sage bushes, roses, peonies… On top of this, our neighbors have been so warm and welcoming. We were recently visited by our lovely neighbors with gifts of fresh homegrown flowers, a hand made card, and a jar of delicious plum preserves. When I eat the preserves I am reminded of our new community and all the possibilities ahead. Salt, Lavender, and Rosemary from our old house… Sage, Quince and a plum preserve from our new home and community…

I didn’t know what the pizza was going to really taste like or be like for that matter, but I was surprised and pleased. It was a sweet and savory pizza, the quince acting like how a mushroom might, adding some density. They were sliced on top raw, and covered in olive oil. Next time, I might toss them in a bowl with the olive oil, sea salt, lavender, and rosemary to infuse the quince with those flavors as well. But even just layered on the pizza, the flavors mingled in a way that really evoked the place that was being talked about in the story. The plum preserves acting as sauce was an incredible touch too–it looks like tomato sauce even! If you ever get your hands on a jar of fresh plum preserves, a quince, and some fresh rosemary and lavender, give this one a try. You won’t be disappointed!

Cheers!