25 September Sunday

Away with strawberries, raspberries, and the like. On the feast of St. Michael and All Angels (September 29) it is said, the devil pisses on the berry bushes, making them sour until Easter. A strange little tale, sure, and maybe lacking in empirical backup, but it is true that the price goes up. Time for apples, pears, persimmons, and the elusive quince.

It was several years ago that my local corner grocery was carrying fresh quince. October-November, fresh quince time. Now, I had never handled quince before, and I was determined to not make the same ridiculous mistake I had made with the kumquat (another post, forthcoming). Quinces really can’t be eaten out of hand. They need to be cooked slowly and with lots of sweet added. The flavor is ambrosial. There is citrus, apple/pear, rose and other floral do dads. You can make a crisp with it, the same as apples. I am looking for some now. Quince crisp is quite amazing. Recipe ahead.

In fact, I have a really interesting story from whence the quince crisp recipe cometh. I won’t tell you now, but it has something to do with George Balanchine. Does that wet your appetite?