Part of this year’s harvest was two pounds of little quince fruit that came off of the flowering quince bush – the first fruit that bush has produced since we moved into 963 three years ago. I didn’t know what to do with it, plus I didn’t think the fruit was ripe, even though I’d picked them at least two weeks ago and left them sitting on the counter. Turns out quince always stays as hard as rock – well, as hard as butternut squash anyway – so I had waited long enough.
I found one website that said hey, you can make quince paste and put it in a terrine and eat it with manchego and mmm, is that good.
So I googled ‘terrine’ (pretty much like a loaf pan) and I googled ‘manchego’ (sheep’s milk cheese from the Manchego breed of sheep in Spain) and I googled ‘quince paste’ and found a recipe for membrillo (the Spanish version of quince paste). Google also mentioned that membrillo and manchego is the national snack of Spain (not really, but mmmm, popular).
Along the way, I read that when quince is ripe, it smells like vanilla and flowers. I thought that was probably a food lover’s exaggeration until I smelled some of mine, and whoa, did they smell yummy, like vanilla and flowers.
So I followed the recipe for membrillo, and the quince turned a lovely dark pink color like it was supposed to (that seems strange since the fruit is white on the inside, like an apple, and all you add is lemon juice and a vanilla pod and a good amount of sugar to match the astringency, so where does the pink come from?).
It gelled up beautifully and now all we’re waiting for is a Manchego sheep and some of its cheese. And a crisp Riesling to seal the deal.