Apple & Quince Pie

When I bought a few quinces at the market two weeks ago, I spent some time reading up on how to use them. For my first taste I chose buttered quince.

Yet I kept on coming across the idea of using quince in an apple pie. I found Jane Grigson claiming that quince adds more to the flavour than anything else, Nigel Slater raving about the "extraordinary perfume" it adds, The Flavour Thesaurus explaining how it couldn't be beaten as a combination.

I had to try.

Pie was already on my 'to do' list. I've made plenty of tarts, galettes and other combinations of pastry and fruit, but never a traditional pie. This seemed like the perfect time.

I bought a pie dish on an crisp early morning walk then came home to make this pie.

I can see where my books were coming from. Underneath the crisp pastry crust lay the most delicious filling, creamy gold and flecked with the rose of the quince. The steam that rose from the pie had the most intoxicating smell.

The scent of a quince is possibly its most distinctive feature. I was finding it very hard to describe until I came across this description in The Flavour Thesaurus: "apple, pear, rose and honey with a musky, tropical depth". The taste echoes the smell.

Make sure you eat this warm with plenty of chilled double cream. It's glorious. I had to go back for seconds.

Sometimes the best desserts are not complex Michelin-starred creations but simple classics.

Apple & Quince Pie
(Pie adapted from Jane Grigson's English Food and pastry adapted from Michel Roux's Pastry)

For the pastry:
250g plain flour
1 tsp sea salt, finely ground
1 tsp caster sugar
1 egg
1 tbsp cold milk
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
150g unsalted butter, cold and cubed
a little extra caster sugar

For the filling:
300ml water
few drops lemon juice
4 cooking apples (roughly 550g)
1 quince (roughly 200g) *
3 tbsp brown sugar

Sieve the flour, salt and sugar into a bowl. In another bowl, whisk the egg, milk and vanilla together. Place the cubed butter into the flour bowl and rub the butter into the flour until it resembles wet sand. Add the egg mix in one go and mix with a knife. Pull together with your hands. Tip onto a surface and squish with the palm of your hand a few times to combine. Wrap in cling film and chill for at least 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 220C**. Pour the water into a bowl and add the lemon juice. Peel, core and chop the apples into small chunks and place them into the water. Peel the quince, then chop into 4, cut the core out and immerse three pieces. Grate the 1/4 back into the bowl and then repeat with the other three, mixing as you go. Place a sieve over a bowl and drain the fruit, making sure you keep the water. Arrange 1/3 of the fruit into a 9" pie dish then sprinkle a tablespoon of the sugar over the top. Add another 1/3 and tablespoon, then repeat again. Pour 250ml of the water into the dish at the side, trying not to wash the sugar out of place.

Roll out the pastry into a circle roughly 12". Cut strips off from around the edge and press along the edge of the pie dish. Brush with a little of the extra water. Roll the pastry over the pin and place over the top of the pie. Press down over the top and then trim the edges. Crimp the edges to seal them and then use a knife to cut a steam hole in the top. Brush the top with some of the extra water and then sprinkle with caster sugar.

Place into the oven and bake for 15 minutes. Turn down to 190C** and bake for another 30 minutes. Leave to cool on a rack. Eat hot or warm with plenty of cold cream.

*If you can't find a quince, you can use roughly the same weight of a sweet apple such as a cox - you won't get the quince perfume but it will still be a lovely apple pie.

(Serves 8)


**Edit 22/11/15: I've just made this again and the baking temperatures seem a bit off, but I sadly haven't had time to re-test them. I think I'd go for 200C put down to 170C another time. I also had a bit too much quince as mine was quite large - I think I might go for half next time, as it was quite overwhelming.

Rice Pudding with Buttered Quince

The quince encapsulates autumn.

As the season dawns, the fruit upon the tree begin to glow a vibrant yellow, ripening from their fuzzy green beginnings.

The flesh of the fruit is crisp and feels almost frozen under the knife. Warmth transforms the quince.



At first, you don't quite know how to dress a quince. Tights, leggings, boots, butter, poaching, roasting?

Once you take the coat off a quince, it must be quickly submerged into a new home without being left out in the damaging air.



Once placed in the pan, the creamy flesh slowly changes colour. By the end, chunks of quince are the colour of a crisp autumnal sunset.



I'm slowly getting used to an urban sunset, a city autumn - litter mixing with the mounds of crisp brown leaves, the tube-heat-coat troubles.

I found these quinces at a little market. Having never seen them for sale before, I grabbed a few. My grandmother used to make quince jelly but I didn't have enough. Simplicity won in the end - I wanted to really be able to taste this new fruit.



Finally, the rice pudding. As a child, I never really liked rice pudding. I fell in love with it this summer, when I ate a lot of it in France. It was served cold for breakfast, thick and creamy and topped with fresh fruit coulis. This pan barely lasted long enough to be photographed. Sometimes the simple pleasures are the best.

I thought it would meld well with the rosy quince. Each mouthful morphs from creamy to fragrant and fruity as you eat.



Rice Pudding with Buttered Quince
(Pudding adapted from Raymond Blanc's Kitchen Secrets, quince from Nigel Slater's Tender Vol II)

For the pudding:
75g short grain rice (I used risotto rice)
850ml whole milk
50g caster sugar
pinch of sea salt
1 vanilla pod

For the quince:
1 quince (about 250g)
1/2 lemon
10g butter
15g caster sugar

Place the rice, milk, caster sugar and sea salt into a medium saucepan. Split the vanilla pod and scrape the seeds out. Place the seeds and pod into the milk. Set over medium heat and bring to the boil then bring down the heat to a gentle simmer. Keep heating, stirring occasionally and scraping the bottom with a spatula.

It will slowly thicken and the rice will cook. This can take at least an hour. (You can cook on the stovetop for 30 minutes then bake in the oven for 30 minutes at 150C too). By the end you still want it to be fairly loose as it will thicken - the rice will be visible on the top and the sauce should be about the thickness of custard. When it's ready pour it into a dish and cool to room temperature. Chill in the fridge overnight, or for at least 2-3 hours.

To start the buttered quince, prepare a bowl of cold water with a slice of the lemon, squeezing it to release the juice. Rub a little lemon over your peeler and peel the quice, dipping the exposed areas into the water. Cut into quarters and place three into the water. I found it easiest to then cut these in half lengthways, place on their triangular bottoms and slice the core out. Chop into chunks and place back into the lemon water. Repeat for the other pieces.

When they're done, place the butter and sugar into a medium pan and melt together. Juice the rest of the lemon into the pan and stir. Finally drain and add the quince chunks. Stir together and heat over a low-medium heat until the quince is very soft - it should be pinky orange instead of cream and easy to squish. This takes about 45 minutes, depending on the ripeness of the fruit.

To serve, spoon some of the cold rice pudding into a bowl and then top with some of the buttered fruit.

(Serves 3-4)