Quince fruit (Cydonia oblonga) was a welcome new discovery, one that to more knowledgeable cooks is not new at all. This month two co-workers and one neighbor all shared their harvest supplies of quince, so it was time to study up and go test it out in the kitchen.

Apparently quince used to be common as a source of pectin in fruit canning, but with the rise of pectin powder people relied on the fruit less over time.

A quince fruit is like a giant heavy pear with a nice fragrance, tough skin, and woody flesh. They are not sweet as is. To peel and cut them takes some extra muscle and determination. Here are a few, staring me down:

Finally peeled, cored (don’t eat the seeds!), and chopped:

Quince simmered in water, then blended to a puree:

Quince pureed, simmered on low heat with regular stirring, for eight hours to half its volume:

A popular recipe for quince is membrillo, a sliced gel eaten with Manchego sheep-milk cheese in Spain. The idea is to cook down the puree, add an equal volume of sugar and heat again to blend, then season with lemon and lemon zest and vanilla. The pantry is fresh out of lemon and vanilla. So I melted in some fair-trade crystal sugar (less than the 50% called for), and a dash of pumpkin pie spice.

The purees goes in to a baking pan lined with parchment paper, and into the oven on low heat until the pectin forms a gel.

It’s been baking for several hours and Lo, it’s developing a fruit-leather skin on top.

Whether it sets and gels or not, at least it has a rich intense fruit flavor.

Here it is, after hours in the oven at 250 F. All those quince yielded 3 cups or so of halfway-gelled candied spread with fruit leather on top. Maybe it will thicken as it cools?

Would I ever try the membrillo venture again? Well, no. Last week’s set of quinces made an excellent stewed sauce blended half and half with pureed pears, and that’s plenty good enough. Still, this will make a novel holiday confection for the three people who shared their fruit with me, and at least this venture saved them 12 hours of kitchen fuss.

It was nice to experience a whole new legacy fruit, as a symbol of harvest generosity among our neighbors.