Chef’s Column: Now’s The Time To Cook With Quince.

It was mid-afternoon last Tuesday, and the kitchen at my London restaurant Salon was buzzing with activity as we got ready for our first dinner service of the week. I was focused on my <mise en place> when I saw my phone in front of me buzzing. Normally I try not to let messages disrupt my flow, but I noticed immediately it was from one of our oldest regulars, George, and instinctively felt it needed attention.

I’ve been fond of George since he and his friends spent a very long, very indulgent December afternoon at the restaurant back in 2013. We’ve formed a friendship over the years, exchanging advice and anecdotes in return for an extra-warm welcome whenever he visits the restaurant, as well as the occasional glut of fruit from his garden in nearby Dulwich.

“My quince tree is full to bursting…” his message read, “are you interested in any?”

I love cooking with quince at this time of year, but they’re one of the autumn crops that often slips my mind until some kind of chance encounter puts one right in front of me.

They are a particularly curious fruit. Clearly related to other orchard fruits, but with a gnarly, almost prehistoric appearance that gives them the look of a pear that time forgot. When picked ripe from the tree, their skin is coated in a suede-like, unkempt fuzz that is so tactile it’s almost impossible not to rub with your thumb.

Quince don’t seem to be grown on any kind of significant scale in the UK; I’m yet to find a UK grower that regards them as having any kind of commercial significance. Which makes it even more exciting when people such as George deliver them direct to my door from their garden.

They are native to South-Western Asia but can now be found across Europe, with the trees flourishing as far north as Scotland. To me, with their honeyed skin and rose-scented flesh, they evoke a sense of southern Spain, North Africa and the Arabic Middle East, which inevitably informs how I use them in the kitchen.

Below is a recipe for an autumnal dish that makes a great centrepiece when entertaining, and utilises the somewhat-forgotten fruit with delicious results.

Slow-roast pork belly with baked quince, cumin, anise and bay

Serves four to six

For the pork

2-3kg pork belly (depending on how much leftovers you want), skin on, bone removed

1 tsp fine salt

1 tsp sea salt

1 tsp cumin seeds

Half-tsp coriander seeds

Half-tsp fennel seeds

2-3 star anise

1 tsp black peppercorns

1 head garlic

2 whole red onions

1 large glass of white wine

For the quince

2-3 large quince, washed thoroughly so the fuzzy coating is removed

200ml white wine

100ml white-wine vinegar

300ml water

150g caster sugar

4-6 star anise

3-6 bay leaves

Pre-heat the oven to its highest setting. Score the skin of the pork belly in parallel lines 1cm apart. Sprinkle the fine salt over the skin and set aside for 20 minutes. Peel the onions and slice in half across the bulb. Slice the whole head of garlic in half across the bulbs without peeling. Place in an oven-proof roasting tray. Briefly dry-toast the spices, then blend in a spice grinder with the sea salt. By this time, the salt will have drawn out some moisture from the pork skin. Wipe away with a paper towel and season the meat all over with the salt and spice mix. Place on top of the onions and garlic in the roasting tray, then transfer to the oven. Cook at a high heat for 30 minutes or so, by which time the crackling should almost be formed. Turn down the heat to 150ºC (medium-hot), and add the white wine to the roasting tray to keep the bottom of the meat moist. Leave to slow-cook for approximately two-and-a-half hours.

Meanwhile, prepare the quince. Mix together the water, wine, vinegar and sugar in a large saucepan, along with the star anise and bay leaf. Gently bring to the boil, stirring until the sugar dissolves, then turn the heat down to a simmer. Slice the quince into quarters and remove the cores – they don’t need to be peeled. Lower the quince into the white wine, vinegar and sugar mixture, cover and poach for two minutes at a gentle simmer or until the flesh is just tender. Remove the quince and set aside, then turn up the heat and reduce the liquid by a third.

Remove the pork from the oven and set aside to rest, loosely covered in tin foil. Add the quince into the roasting dish along with a good few spoonfuls of the poaching liquor. Return to the oven, turn up the heat and bake for 20 minutes or so until the flesh is beginning to caramelise and the liquid is beginning to get sticky.

Slice the pork into 1cm slice, and serve with the quince alongside and a drizzle of the caramelised cooking liquid. Some roast potatoes and steamed greens would be a great accompaniment – as well as the rest of the bottle of white wine, if you haven’t drunk it already!