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Quince Honey (Four quinces one apple three)
Four quinces, one apple, three pints of sugar, one pint of water. Boil sugar and water while you grate the quince and apple; then put in and boil twenty-one minutes.
A grated-quince preserve of the old economical sort: no pectin, no pan of fruit to skim, just sugar syrup thickened by the fruit itself. The whole thing hinges on grating the quince fine enough that it dissolves into the syrup during the short boil.
- The sugar measureSugar here is measured by volume, not weight. Three pints is 6 cups, roughly 2 lb 10 oz of granulated sugar; the pint of water is 2 cups.
- Grate it fine, and fastRaw quince is dense and gritty and will not soften in twenty-one minutes unless it is grated on the fine or medium side of a box grater. A food processor shredding disc leaves shreds too coarse. Peel and core first, and keep the gratings in a bowl with a squeeze of lemon, as quince browns quickly on contact with air.
- The apple is doing workThe apple -- One apple to four quinces adds a little acid and pectin, though the quince itself supplies most of the setting power. Any tart, firm cooking apple will do.
- Twenty-one minutes, and watch the potStir often once the fruit goes in, as the mixture is thick and scorches on the bottom without warning. Test by dropping a little on a chilled plate; it should mound rather than run.
- ColourQuince flesh deepens from pale cream toward amber as it cooks. Do not expect the deep rose of a long-cooked quince paste in twenty-one minutes.
- Yield and keepingThis makes a generous batch, likely six or more half-pint jars. The original assumes you will pour it hot into whatever you have; for shelf storage, follow current water-bath canning directions for a high-sugar fruit spread, or simply refrigerate and use within a few weeks.
- ServingThicker than jelly and looser than jam, it is meant for hot biscuits, toast or muffins, and it is stiff enough to sandwich a plain cake.
The name is descriptive rather than deceptive: grated quince cooked in heavy syrup goes translucent and gold and thickens to something close to honey in colour and body, and nineteenth-century American cookbooks printed "quince honey" recipes as a way of stretching a small amount of fruit into a great deal of preserve. Quince was a dooryard tree across the eastern United States in this period, valued precisely because it is so high in pectin that it will set jelly with nothing added. The fruit fell out of household use in the twentieth century as commercial pectin removed the need for it and as its hardness and astringency made it unappealing raw.