On Monday of last week I finally got around to harvesting the quince tree growing along a country road in South Sutter County. I passed along this stretch of road many times on my way from one rice field to another and always found it pleasing because it is lined with walnut groves and homesteads whose yards abound with fruit trees. I noticed the quince tree but never stopped to collect the fruit until that chilly December afternoon.
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| Quince Tree, Striplin Road Sutter County, CA |
For those of you unfamiliar with quince, it is a lumpy yellow-green fruit whose size ranges between apple and football. Unlike most contemporary fruit, whose growers and buyers prize uniformity and perfection in appearance, every quince has a unique shape and is covered with a thin fuzz. When eaten raw, quince has an astringent, mouth puckering taste, but when cooked it becomes very delicious. Quince's popularity throughout the world in countries like Turkey, England, Spain, Iran and Mexico attest to the wonderful taste and versatility of this unique fruit. I first ate quince at a family Christmas Day dinner, where my aunt pureed it with root vegetables. I enjoyed this puree, my father however, who can be quite picky about his food and very emphatic about things he doesn't like to eat, did not. In 2010 while studying at the UC Santa Cruz farm and garden, I picked quince because no one else seemed to want it, and cooked it into a tasty, rose colored jam.
On that beautiful Monday afternoon in the Sacramento Valley, I drove along Striplin Road looking for the quince tree. I parked my car on the narrow gravel shoulder next to a fall-planted alfalfa field and walked over to the bushy fruit laden tree that grew next to a drainage dish. Initially I had been concerned that the neighbors wouldn't take kindly to my picking of the quince, but seeing as it was December and a hard freeze was in the forecast, I figured no one would mind. With only the birds to keep me company, I spent a half an hour or so scouring and shaking the tree, then collecting the fruit. The setting sun bathed the countryside in a golden light and the air quickly grew cold. As I drove back to Highway 99 and then past the winter-flooded rice fields towards Sacramento I felt very glad to work in such a beautiful place.
A few days later I cooked the quince into jam, and then canned it. It took a while:
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| Final product--the quince turns red after cooking for a while with sugar (honey in this case) |
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