Which they ate with a runcible spoon

I've been remiss about attempting the A-to-Z challenge but by my reckoning, the 17th of the month is Q day, and so I present you with quinces.

I can't hear the word quince without -- at a bare minimum --  reciting the line "they dined on mince and slices of quince, which they ate with a runcible spoon". Usually it's the whole of the Owl and the Pussycat, from pea-green boat to dancing by the light of the moon.

Those two went to sea of course, the lucky so-and-sos. Remember travel? No, me neither. But fortunately, I don't need to travel to the Land Where The Bong Tree Grows to get my hands on quince: there's a house in the village with an orchard, and they sell their fruit at the doorstep all through the season, from plums through occasional figs (yes!) to apples and pears, and then late season quinces.

So the last few weeks have been a voyage of discovery through two punnets of the tough yellow things.

(As this is a blog about mental health as well as kitchens, we might as well also note that the last few weeks have also been a voyage of discovery through an intense outbreak of anxiety, brought into being by all of this *waves arms*, and specifically some of the implications of it for my particular work situation. I stopped sleeping altogether (no fun), and spent days stuck in the flight-or-fight, full-of-adrenaline world of being constantly scared (also no fun). Four weeks of work, some pills, some sleep (HURRAH), and lots of walks seem to be getting me back on the right track. I'm on a phased return now, am not constantly scared, and am slowly getting better as taking each day as it comes.

Solidarity to anyone and everyone who's going through anything similar.)

So anyway, back to quinces...

The first punnet I turned into quince and pear chutney, which I also made last year and went down a storm with my dad. This was in fact the whole reason I was  looking for quince in the first place. The linked recipe specifies quince and apple, but you can use quince/pear/apple in the proportions you have to hand.

And the rest went into QUINCEMEAT, what a genius idea. A friend sent my Nigella's recipe, but there are various versions you can find online. I can't comment on its success yet, because it's waiting for December to be baked into things.

The second punnet has been a serious voyage of discovery...

1. Crumble

Lots of sources suggest adding a little quince to an apple-based dessert, so I chopped and roasted a quince, and cooked it in the oven a bit before adding apples and a crumble topping. The end result was a bit strange, somehow. Maybe the quince was undercooked? Or maybe too much quince to not enough apple?

2. Bread pudding

I was using up some old bread in a good old-fashioned bread pudding, so tried grating some quince in. I cooked the grated quince in the microwave first to soften it up. 

The result? No real quinciness evident. Not worth it.

3. Poached

I'm not sure what I think about poached fruit. I do occasionally do pears with chocolate sauce, but I've never quite sure they're worth the effort. And I think I feel the same about the quinces: even when cut into slices, they take a *lot* of poaching to get good, and all that simmering simmering simmering gets on my nerves, somehow.

Maybe one for special occasions?

4. Roasted

Jane Grigson, bless her soul, reports that roast quinces were Isaac Newton's favourite dessert. She does not cite her sources. She suggests that one peels and then cores the quince, filling the cavity with butter and sugar creamed together, and then roast them for ages until dark red and gelatinous.

Now, have we mentioned how famously TOUGH quince are? I'm not sure how you can safely core one in the manner of coring an apple straight through the middle. So I cut ours in half, and put some butter and sugar on each piece.

Probably too much butter, in fact, because it ended up very fatty-looking, so I scooped out the liquid, and cooked it up with more sugar into a sort of quincey butterscotch to serve over the fruit.

They were exceedingly delicious served with cream, and are easy to make if you've already got the oven on. Recommended. And far too good to remember to photograph them.

5. Syrup

The peelings, I read somewhere online, can be boiled up in a sugar syrup to make a quince syrup. And, by Jove, it works! It's apparently good for cocktails, but I haven't got that far yet (and anyway I've off the booze with the new pills), but it's good as squash, or on yoghurt, or for dressing fruit tarts. That sort of thing.

Proto-syrup

6. ??? 

Readers, I still have three quince to go. There may yet be more of this nonsense. Maybe I'll buy a runcible spoon and try sliced quince with mince.