Quince is one of those almost-forgotten fruits that you usually do not come across at a supermarket. You may be lucky enough to find some at a farmer's market, but usually you either get them from a tree in your own back yard or from friends, who are usually happy to part with some of their bounty.
I fall into the second category. When we were in Piedmont a couple of week ends ago, we left with a large carton of produce that included four quinces. I had never cooked with them before and didn't even know whether they were ripe or not. I did some reading and learned that they are ripe when they turn a nice yellow hue and smell sweet and floral. Don't expect them to turn softer, however, because they stay rock hard even when they mature. Another handy piece of information I collected is that if you are using them to make preserves, they don't need to be fully ripe.
Something elso you probably already know about this fruit is that it cannot be consumed raw. Once it is cooked, however, it can be used in many ways: to accompany savory dishes (pork roast, game, blue cheese anybody?) or in desserts. They work well in pies and tarts, but you can also lightly poach them with vanilla or spices or cook them longer into a compote or jam like I did.
A fun fact: did you know that the word marmalade originally comes from the Portuguese word for quince - marmelo - as quince marmalade, very popular in Medieval England, was usually imported from Mediterranean countries and only actually started being made there much later, towards the Sixteenth century.
Anyway, after checking on my quinces daily for about ten days, I decided to make something with them. They may not have been fully ripe because they did smell floral, but only faintly. I wasn't too concerned really, since I was going to make a jam out of them.
I washed the fuzz on the skin off and started chopping and cleaning, which was probably the most strenuous part of the whole process. They are hard little suckers (mine were also all inhabited by a few wiggly creatures: let me just say the cleaning did not only involve the core and seeds).
After the lengthy operation there were still over two pounds of flesh from the four specimens, a little more than the amount indicated in Family Spice's recipe, which I followed as a guideline, although I decided to use less sugar than suggested because I don't like things that are overly sweet. I may even consider using less next time.
I then took the recipe a step further and made different variations on the theme by straining a little here, processing a little there and even adding some water. The last logical step would have been to make membrillo, the Spanish quince paste/cheese, by further straining the blended jam through a fine mesh sieve and then cooking and baking it until no moisture was left. But I was
frankly a little tired satisfied with what I had and decided to call it a day.