fridaynightdinnerbox: mangawhai orchard: membrillo, quince paste

Each tree

Laden with fairest fruit, that hung to th' eye

Tempting, stirr'd in me sudden appetite

To pluck and eat.

-John Milton, Paradise Lost (VIII, l. 30)

A fruit of mythical renown:

-it was a quince Eve plucked in the Garden of Eden, a temptation too delicious to resist;
-In Greek myth, it was three golden quince bestowed upon Melanion by the goddess Aphrodite which, when dropped during their race, distracted the fair Atalanta who could not be beaten, she slowed to scoop them up as she ran, just enough for him to win both the race & her hand in marriage;
-Heracles' 11th Labour was to retrieve the immortal life-giving golden apples which grew in the orchards of the Garden of the Hesperides;
-It was a quince, inscribed 'to the fairest' which the goddess Eris, sower of discord, spitefully tossed amongst Hera, Athena & Aphrodite. In the fight which followed, Paris, known for his fairness, was given the dubious honour of judging which of the three to be fairest, & awarded the prize to Aphrodite after she offered him a bribe that he might have the most beautiful woman in the world as his own; Helen of Sparta, bride of Menelaus, later known as Helen of Troy, face which launched a thousand ships, which was in turn the trigger which led to that most legendary of ancient battles, the Trojan war.

...introducing: the quince.

Far from Menelaus the murderous Mediterranean, on a silent stroll seeing no signs of suspicious silver tongued serpents, I wandered through the gardens & picked my quinces in the orchard at my mother's farm in Mangawhai, for what would be the last time. The land had been sold, but we'd held off settlement to allow the quinces to ripen, that they might be picked & transformed one last time into that most exquisite of edible treasures, membrillo. It was a routine that we looked forward to, my mother & I, at the end of each summer, counting the fruit as they appeared & watching them ripen. While everyone else would roll their eyes & say, 'oh, gosh, more quince paste?' we would steal glances at each other, in secret glee relishing the irony that no one else seemed to realise the magic quality they held. Boxes of crystalising, hardening cubes & sheets of the paste would be stashed in various spots perfect for the storage of our membrillo, I would carry my own supplies from flat to flat as I moved about the country. Arguments raged, & my brothers still shake their heads at the accusations that were levelled against them when any went missing, my mother was not to be crossed at such times. Some might say we were obsessed; I can live with that. Whatever. Another summer has passed & my cupboards are full of another year's worth of membrillo, what do I care?

The process of making membrillo requires you clear the morning of things to do: it takes a while & your focus on the task at hand is important. That aside, making membrillo is both simple & satisfying.

Equipment you will need:

a nice big pot/ set of scales/ a wooden spoon/ sharp knife/ chopping board/ sturdy sieve/ spatula

Ingredients:

a box of quince/sugar/water

(approximate quantities: 1 1/2kg qunice to 400g sugar)

>the quince should be washed & cleaned of the soft brown fuzz that coats their skins

>I like a few vanilla pods in my sugar bowl, infusing their flavour most wonderfully

Method:

*cut the quince in 1/4's, leaving the cores & pips

*in a large pot, cover them with water & bring to the boil, simmering

*them to simmer until they soften, about an hour

*through a sieve, strain liquid into another pot, remove the seeds & cores from the cooked fruit, & pass the fruit thru the sieve using the spatula, or use a food mill/mouli if you have one (much quicker)

*weigh out the equivalent weight of sugar to fruit & bring to a slow simmer, over a gentle heat

*stirring often with a wooden spoon, cook the mixture for 3 hours or so, keeping an eye on it as it thickens. The longer it cooks, the more quickly it will thicken.

*the membrillo is cooked when the spoon you use to stir can stand up on its own, but as you near this point it needs stirring continuously as the paste will catch easily on the bottom of the pan & burn.

*once ready, the membrillo can be cooled a little then poured into a lined tray. I generally use a click-clack container lined with gladwrap, but baking paper brushed with a little olive oil works fine.

*pour it in, a couple of inches thick, & once cooled place in the fridge to set, where it can stay for as long as you like. Bring it out to slice chunks off, or slice wrap & stack, ready to serve, as you wish.

>to seal or not to seal? - that is the question. I prefer to leave the lid off; what happens is that over the months that follow, the membrillo firms up, even to the point where it is actually not simply firm but hard. Slicing it thinly in this state it transforms into something quite different, with a firm texture almost like cheese. This takes a few months, I usually leave mine a year, preferring to serve up last year's batch on my cheese boards, & sometimes crystalisation happens, but that's easily trimmed off. In cooler months this can be done on the kitchen bench, with a piece of muslin tied over to keep the ants out, but in Auckland's humid heat mould happens quickly & that ain't so good.

Standing over the stove, watch as the colour of the quince changes from the softest pink to a deep orange before transforming into a dark rich red paste. It's wonderful! And as the membrillo simmers happily away, a most intoxicating perfume rises with the steam, drifting through from the kitchen to fill the entire house with its heavenly fragrance. For good reason, this fruit been attributed the qualities of an aphrodisiac. The aromas that linger throughout the house after such a day are quite delightful.