I’m back in London after 6 long weeks away in India teaching baking and pâtisserie. A big thank you from the bottom of my heart to all those who came. THANK YOU!
Being back in London also means that’s I’m back in my favourite season with quinces, potimarrons and chestnuts around. I can’t wait to see girolles and chanterelles at the market. I’m seeking pleasure in cooking in my own kitchen, using my cast iron pots and sharpening my knives on the whetstone. My plants too have been rearranged for the cold months ahead, with the jasmine withering away and the last rose in bloom.
I’ve baked so much lately, I feel the itch to cook. Every other night I’ll make a dinner that’s slightly more involved. Two nights ago i made a salmon with beurre blanc, seared gem lettuce and mango, caper and onion salsa. Last night I cooked a rack of lamb and we ate it with brown butter, maple and rosemary roasted potimarron. (catch these little updates on Instagram stories – basically a place where I don’t have to worry about composing a pretty shot).
So, fall.
I ordered some French quinces a few days ago and decided to have a go at them by making a clear quince jelly for the cheese board. I looked at my favourite jam person Christine Ferber for instructions and this is my adaptation/translation of her recipe. In the introduction where she talks about jam making, equipment and her method, she suggests two techniques to tell the doneness of jam (both of which I’ve given below). She also adds that when you make jam enough times you will know the doneness of it simply by looking at it. This really struck a chord and reminded me to keep learning, keep making.
Quince Jelly Recipe
Cooking with quinces is a lesson in slow food. I started with 1 kg quinces – peeled, cored and quartered them and put into a pot with enough water to cover them. The hard fruit, packed with pectin, softens after about 45 minutes of poaching. You then strain the quince juice while putting the remaining pulp in a cloth bag and letting it drip. Avoid the temptation to squeeze (although I can’t say I didn’t) to keep the juice as clear as possible. Ideally, let the quince juice sit in the fridge overnight. This will help any sediments to settle and give an even clearer jelly. The next day, carefully decant the quince juice and cook it with 95% sugar and lemon juice (1 lemon per litre of juice). Cook on high heat to quicken the cooking and keep skimming the surface of any scum that rises. To test for doneness, you can spoon some of the quince jelly on a cold plate and then run your finger in the middle. If it doesn’t pool back up, it’s done. On the thermometer, it should read 105°C. Bottle up. You can make a quince compote with the pulp, or you could make this quince crumble and then adjust the amount of sugar you add to the jelly.
