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The quince is enjoying something of a revival, and no wonder – its tangy, perfumed sweetness makes it ideal for savoury dishes and puddings alike In times past, in any English garden with even just a few fruit trees, one of them was sure to be a quince. Then they almost disappeared – or at least became a rare exotic, an enthusiast's talking point, at best. Happily, they seem to be enjoying something of a revival, with more and more people planting their own. I say happily, because they are a true culinary gem. A quince tree in fruit is a beautiful thing, too, with those downy, golden orbs hanging temptingly amid generous oval leaves, brightening truculent autumn skies. Quinces are not easy to buy, either, so that's all the more reason to grow your own in order to enjoy their tangy, perfumed sweetness in savoury and sweet dishes throughout the cooler months. Quince trees originated in the Caucasus. They're part of the rose family, a relative of apples and pears, and have a long and exalted history. The "apples" referred to in the story of Adam and Eve, and in the Song of Solomon, were almost certainly quinces. It's highly likely the golden apple of Hesperides, which Paris gave to Aphrodite, was also a quince. In classical legend, it's the fruit of love, marriage and fertility. Charlemagne championed quinces in France, ordering them to be grown in royal gardens, and after the Norman Conquest they found their way over the Channel – our word quince is derived from the French "coing". In 1275, Edward I planted four of the first quinces in England, paying sixpence for each one, in the grounds of the Tower of London. Certainly, quinces' beautiful shape, aroma and colour are tantalising, but they demand patience, which is perhaps why they made way for the instant gratification of the apple. Their grainy, white flesh is sour and hard, and only kitchen alchemy will transform them into seductively silky, rosy tenderness. When cooking them, rub off the downy fur and drop them into lemony water as soon as they're peeled – their flesh turns an unappealing brown with astonishing rapidity. Once prepped, they have a wide range of uses. Their high pectin levels mean they make excellent jams and jellies, or they can be boiled down to make intense membrillo and fruit leathers. Or simply add a few poached slices to an apple or pear tart or crumble. Their tanginess makes them a perfect foil for rich, meaty dishes, too – they often feature in Moroccan tagines and Persian stews. If I've tempted you to make space for a quince in your own Garden of Eden, here's the good news: they're really not difficult to grow. They're self-fertile, so you need only one, and their modest size makes them suitable for all but the smallest of gardens. Give them a sheltered, sunny spot, rich soil, a thick layer of mulch in spring and water in dry spells, and they will happily reward you with pretty blossom in spring and fat fruits in autumn. At River Cottage, we grow Meeches Prolific – like Vranja, it's a heavy cropper that bears large fruit. They ripen early, too, which makes them suitable for our climate. Newer varieties Krymsk and Leskovac also seem to do well. Pick the fruit in October or early November, and leave them to ripen loosely packed in boxes in a cool, dry place; keep them well away from apples, though, because they will taint their flavour. And keep a few in a bowl in the kitchen or hallway, too – they'll fill the house with a heavenly scent, leaving you in no doubt as to when they're ready enough to eat. Hot lamb and quince saladThe zingy sweetness of the quince goes beautifully with the rosy lamb. If you like, add a handful of rocket and/or coriander leaves to the salad, but it's delicious just as it is. Serves four as a starter, two as a main. 1 tsp coriander seeds
1 tsp cumin seeds
Zest of 1 orange
¼-½ tsp chilli flakes
3 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
500g lamb leg steak, butterflied (ask the butcher to do this for you), trimmed of excess fat
1 large quince, washed but unpeeled
2 tbsp runny honey
Juice of 1 lemon
1 sprig fresh rosemary
Flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper In a small, dry frying pan over a medium heat, toast the coriander and cumin seeds until just fragrant – about a minute. Grind roughly with a pestle and mortar, and combine in a bowl with the orange zest, chilli flakes and oil. Add the lamb, rubbing the marinade well into the surface; cover and marinate for two to four hours, turning over once or twice. Halve the quince lengthways, remove the core, then cut each half into four segments. Put these into a small pan with the honey, lemon juice, rosemary and enough water just to cover. Bring to a simmer, partially cover and poach gently until tender – depending on the size of the quince, about 30-45 minutes. Remove from the poaching liquid with a slotted spoon and place in the marinade with the lamb. Turn everything over with your hands so the quince slices are well coated. Warm up a small griddle pan or frying pan over a high heat. Fry the seasoned lamb steak for a couple of minutes a side, then leave on a warmed plate to rest for five minutes while you cook the quince. Griddle or fry the quince segments on both sides until starting to caramelise. Cut the lamb into thin slices and arrange on plates with the quince. Deglaze the pan with some of the poaching liquid, then pour the pan juices over the meat and fruit, sprinkle on some flaky sea salt and serve immediately. Sticky quince and ginger cakeThis makes a pretty, moist cake studded with poached quince and stem ginger. Save any leftover poaching syrup – it will solidify into a jelly and is delicious spread on toast. Makes one 23cm cake. 150g butter, softened, plus a little more for greasing
2 large-ish quinces (about 600g)
160g caster or vanilla sugar
160g runny honey
1 small thumb fresh ginger, peeled and finely diced
Juice of ½ lemon
250g plain flour
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp baking powder
Good pinch of salt
180g caster or vanilla sugar
3 eggs, plus 1 egg yolk
100g creme fraiche
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 balls stem ginger in syrup, drained and chopped For the topping
3 tbsp syrup from the ginger jar
3 tbsp quince poaching liquid
2 tbsp granulated sugar Heat the oven to 170C/325F/gas mark 3. Grease a 23cm x 5cm round, spring-form cake tin, line the base and sides with baking parchment, and butter the parchment. Peel, quarter and core the quinces. Cut each quarter into 1cm slices. Put the quince into a large saucepan with 600ml water, the sugar, honey, ginger and lemon juice. Bring to a boil and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the quince is very tender and has turned a deep, rosy amber colour – about an hour and a half. Drain, reserving the liquor. Leave the quince to cool, and in a small pan reduce the liquor until thick and syrupy. Sift the flour, ground ginger, baking powder and salt into a bowl. In a separate bowl, beat together the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy. Add the eggs and yolk one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in a few tablespoons of the flour, the creme fraiche and vanilla, fold in the rest of the flour, then the poached quince and chopped ginger. Spoon into the prepared tin and smooth the top with a spatula. Bake for about an hour and a quarter (check after an hour – if the cake is browning too quickly, cover with foil), until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out clean. While the cake is cooking, whisk together the ginger syrup and poaching syrup to make a glaze. As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, pierce the top a few times with a skewer and brush on the glaze, letting it trickle into the holes. Sprinkle over the sugar and leave to cool in the tin for 20 minutes. Remove from the tin and leave on a wire rack to cool completely. Sweet roasted quinceWe've been tucking into quince cooked in honey and spices since the middle ages – try these, and it's easy to see why. They're delicious served hot with good vanilla ice-cream. Serves six. 18 cloves
3 quinces, unpeeled, halved and cored
Juice of ½ lemon
200ml port (or sweet red wine)
5 tbsp runny honey
3 cinnamon sticks
2 star anise (optional) Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Press three cloves into the skin of each quince half, and place the fruit cut-side down in a roasting tin. Whisk together 400ml water, the lemon juice, port and honey, and pour over the quinces. Place the cinnamon sticks in the tray, along with the star anise, if using. Bake for about an hour, until sticky and golden. Now turn the quince right-side up and continue baking until very tender – about 15 minutes more. Carefully remove the cloves from the skin. Remove the pan from the oven and let the quince cool slightly. If there is lots of liquid in the tin, strain it into a small pan and simmer to reduce to a thick syrup. Put a quince half on each plate, spoon over some of the cooking juices (or syrup) and serve with ice-cream. • Join River Cottage's head gardener, Mark Diacono, on his Fruit Course, 13 November, at River Cottage HQ. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
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