Eight years ago we planted four trees quince trees. This year we netted the trees for the first time, and I had no idea how productive they could be. They produced approximately 250 kilos of the most beautiful, large breast-like, grub-less specimens.
I did laugh as we wrapped and secured the nets; the old and persistent cockatoos were circling above squawking with confusion and annoyance as their bounty appeared to slip from their grasp beneath the nets.
These quinces are certainly a fruit I love. The Greeks and Romans certainly knew and loved the quince and still do today. I thank the Greeks for the inspiration for the quince paste below. To them the quince was a symbol of love and fertility. Greek myths often refer to the ’golden apple’ dedicated to Aphrodite and Venus, the goddesses of love. The custom of eating quinces as part of a wedding feast is well documented in Greece, and this tradition goes back as far back as 600BC.
I should also mention that a Greek friend of my son-in-law rang to advise of a similar harvest at his property, so it is good to see that the tradition lives on after thousands of years. He was even able to produce evidence that the same trees had delivered award-winning quinces from the Yass Show in the 1950s. I am only speculating, but perhaps his sudden interest in quinces arouses a parallel interest in getting hitched, so I will refrain from making his name public, suffice to say that he is a very eligible bachelor.
The quince is a beautiful fruit, large and noble with a very pervasive fragrance. I pick my quinces when they are greenish gold to all yellow.
Baked quinces are delicious. All you need to do is halve them, scoop out the core, and slice a section of the base so it sits flat in the baking dish. Then fill the core with butter and brown sugar. They are then baked very slowly until they become rosy red and serve them with lashings of cream and extra sugar as required.
Quinces also work well with pheasant, guinea foul and quail.
There is also nothing like a good old-fashioned quince tart, made with a quince puree flavoured with cinnamon and freshly grated ginger, as you would a pumpkin pie, or then you can use the puree to flavour a custard that is then churned as ice cream.
Quinces work well with apples; in fact, if you do not have enough quinces you can substitute with some apples, or you could try adding some quince paste or jelly to the apple in your pie.
Quince Jelly
2 kg ripe quinces
Caster sugar
2 large lemons
2 litres water (or enough water to cover the quinces)
Quince jelly is ideal to make with knobbly, slightly blemished, bush quinces that are often seen growing along creek beds. I do not peel quinces for jelly or paste.
Wash the quinces, scourer off the down and then quarter them roughly. Put the cut up quince into a preserving pan with the water and simmer long and slowly until they become soft. It can take over an hour to reduce well. Strain through a jelly bag overnight (by jelly bag, I mean a tea towel or very fine sieve – whatever you have at your disposal that fits within that criteria will be fine). Do not force the juice, as it will make it cloudy.
Measure the juice into the preserving pan, and for each 600 mls of juice add 375g caster sugar. Bring juice to simmering point, add the sugar and the strained lemon juice. Dissolve over a very low heat. Boil fast and begin testing for a set after 10 minutes. When soft set is reached, pour into small jars and lid.
This jelly stiffens during storage, and looks like a ruby jewel in the jar. It is delicious is served with lamb or boiled or baked pork, or simply as jelly with toast and butter for breakfast.
Quince Paste
1 kg quince (about 3 large quinces)
2 lemons
600 ml water
375 g caster sugar to every 500g pulp
Spices optional (Chilli, cinnamon stick or a few cloves or bay leaves)
Wash the quinces and scourer off the down. Halve them, take out the cores and then quarter, keeping the cores in a separate muslin bag.
Squeeze the juice of the lemons. Put the quince, lemon juice, peel and pith (tied in muslin bag) into a saucepan. Add the water and simmer gently until the quinces are tender and softened (about one hour). Sieve, blend or mash the contents of the saucepan and weigh the pulp, discarding the lemon rinds and pips. Now add the sugar and the spice, stir, bring to the boil, and boil hard for 10-20 minutes, then test for setting. It is a good idea to wear rubber gloves for this last part as it does spit and burp and eventually begins to erupt like Vesuvius while you are stirring. The paste will begin to leave the sides of the pan as it thickens, becoming harder to stir and gradually turning dark red.
As soon as it sets, pour into a flat, greased baking dish. Push it out as evenly as you can and when it cools, slightly wet your hands and push it out to flatten it. If it appears watery on the top it can then be dried out in the oven on a very gentle heat and then turned on to a board and cut in to small squares to be served on a cheese plate. The balance can be stored in greaseproof paper.
My favourite after dinner treat is to serve quince paste with a soft cream cheese, a bowl of fresh walnuts and a glass of Canberra District Shiraz, of which there happen to be some pretty good ones about.