Spiced Quince Jam

Our lovely next-door neighbours, Jack and Peggy (Jack, in his 80s, is a toy boy, the saucy old seadog), have got this quince tree in their front garden and every autumn I've been amazed at the sheer abundance of fruit it produces. Then, after a couple of weeks of watching said fruit drop to the ground and slowly rot to a pulpy mess, it is quickly forgotten as thoughts turn to Halloween and beyond that to Christmas. But not this year. Oh no, this year I snaffled the lot. Yes, every single fruit (with J&P's permission, of course, and in exchange for a jar of raspberry jam and promise or further preserves to come).

I'm gonna be honest, I might have bitten off more of the bitter fruit than I can chew. I have a lot of quinces. My first foray into quince jam (below) used 3lbs of them, yielding four jars and enough left-over juice for three more. The dent into my bag was tiny. I fear that friends and colleagues are going to be politely thanking me for yet another jar of quince jam for weeks to come – and then heading to the nearest Google to find out just what the hell it is they are holding in their hand like a live grenade.

Well let me save them the bother. Put simply, a quince is a member of the apple and pear family and indeed looks like the bastard child of the two. However, if you're unfortunate enough to bite into a raw one (and still have your teeth intact beyond its rather firm flesh) you'll soon realise that this is a bastard child with ginger hair and a stutter. Its intense bitterness is enough to make your mouth shrivel up faster than a wicked witch in a rainstorm. It's no surprise that they're about as rare in your local Sainsbury's as a northerner happily paying 5p for a plastic bag.

What is immediately pleasing about the quince, though, is the fragrance: honeyed, perfumed and, well, surprisingly pleasant. Despite the sharpness, you just know that if you introduce these bitter buggers to a little sugar, ok, a lot of sugar, then you're going to be onto a winner. The recipe I have used adds some great Christmasy spices to complement the fruit, with the result being a delicious, rich-coloured jam that would be equally good as an ingredient for sweet or savoury. My god, it's good with cheese and crackers, and I think would be great to use instead of marmelade when smothering a ham before baking.

If you can source some quince, I urge you to give this go. If not, drop me a line and I'll send you a jar or six...

Ingredients:
3lbs quince, washed, stalks removed, cut into eight
4 cups granulated sugar
zest and juice of 1 small orange
zest and juice of 1 lemon
1/4 tsp ginger
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp allspice
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 tsp cardamon

Method:
1. Add the quince pieces, skins, cores and pips and all, to a large pan. Cover with water so the quince floats. Bring to a boil, cover then gently simmer for three hours until the fruit is soft.
2. Strain the juice in fine sieve, squashing the soft fruit to extract as much as possible.
3. Return 6 cups of the juice to a clean pan, add the sugar, orange, lemon and spices, and bring to a boil. Any remaining juice can be frozen and used for another batch.
4. Place a small plate in the freezer.
5. After boiling for 20 minutes the liquid will start to look dark and syrupy. To check it is the right consistency, remove the cold plate from the freezer. Add a tsp of the liquid and freeze for 1 minute.
6. To check if the jam is ready, remove the plate and push the jam with your finger. If it wrinkles then the jam is ready. If not, return plate to freezer and continuing boiling the quince for another 5 minutes before checking again. This can take 40 minutes or more for the jam to be ready.
7. Cool slightly, add a small knob of butter to remove any "scum" that might have formed on the surface and remove any peel, cardamon and cloves. Fill sterilised jars and allow to cool before sealing.