My neighbor's tree is brimming with quince. Membrillo, a Spanish quince paste, is one of my go-to mates for cheese. And so yesterday, I decided to make some.
I spotted this bountiful sight of a quince-laden tree outside my sister's window last week. Every day since, the vision has been taunting me with the prospect of homemade membrillo.
With just a few pulls on the apple picker, I scored a hefty bounty and got to work. Still wasn't that much work, though! It just takes a bit of time.
Membrillo is great for hard cheese. Traditionally paired with manchego in Spain, it's wonderful with other rich sheep milk cheeses, like those from the French side of the Basque region, like Ossau Iraty or Petite Basque, or even a salty, smoky one like Idiazabal, from the Spanish side of the Basque region. But across the board, an aged sheep milk cheese is a delicious way to go.
You'll typically find membrillo in square slabs or blocks. Sliced into pieces, it makes for a neat presentation atop a cracker or directly on a wedge of cheese. But I opted not to smooth it into a square dish and even forwent the process of letting it set entirely. I served it the day I made it, piled into a little dish, and let people do the spreading themselves.
I prefer it this way, actually. It's more of a jam or chutney, and presents more homey and less geometric. You can easily spread it into a dish after you make it and invert it for slicing, or transfer it to a jar and serve it like a jam. Either way, expect a wonderfully apple-pear condiment that'll compliment your cheeses in the evening, and your toast in the morning.

I like a chunkier texture. If you like a smoother paste, you can strain it after cooking.

Homemade Membrillo
Makes 1 1/2 cups3 1/2 pounds quince, washed, peeled, cored, and roughly chopped
2 3/4 cups sugar
Juice of 1 lemon, plus more to taste
In a large pot, combine quince and enough water to cover by 2 inches. Bring to a boil over high heat and reduce to a simmer. Cook until quince is very tender, about 25 minutes.
Strain, reserving 3/4 cup liquid. Return to pot with reserved liquid, sugar, and lemon juice. Boil over medium heat, stirring frequently, until reduced and very thick, about 2 1/2 to 3 hours. Taste, and add more lemon if you'd like. The color should be a rich raspberry, quite darker and more red than the initial color of the boiled quince. (See photo for indication of correct color.)
If a smooth texture is desired, strain through a fine-meshed sieve. Transfer to a container, cool, cover, and transfer to refrigerator until ready to use. Alternatively, you can transfer to a buttered baking dish and chill in the refrigerator. Invert and slice into pieces for serving.
Nora Singley used to be a cheesemonger and the Director of Education at Murray's Cheese Shop. Until recently she was a TV Chef on The Martha Stewart Show. She is currently a freelance food stylist and private chef in New York City.
Related: Weekend Recipe: Quince and Apple Tart
(Images: Nora Singley
Elizabeth Apron fro...

Awesome, more quince recipes! I loved the quince recipes you included in the past as well-I included some of them in a recent post recounting my discovery of quince for the very first time in Italy. Here they are called 'mela cotogna' and are so great. My Nonna makes an awesome marmalade with them. http://goo.gl/FTWtU
Great pix too, thanks for posting more on this crazy weird fruit.
I can't wait to make quince jam this year, and I would also welcome more recipes.
For anyone hesitant about canning, quince jam is by far the easiest!
Oh my. I am so jealous of those of you with access to quince in abundance. Here in the midwest I'm lucky if I see one every few years--nobody here grows them. But they are so, so lovely.
Turkish delight!
We have a quince tree in our yard -- and a problem with fruit bandits. So please allow me to remind people -- CHECK WITH THE OWNER FIRST.
Fruit bandits? Yup! Someone drove 30 feet up my motherinlaw's driveway a few years ago and picked the peaches off a tree near her front door. She has since installed a motion-activated light...ugly on the farm, but apparently necessary.
Our suburban tree is also in the front yard -- and I'd never do that again. The saddest was the year someone stole a lot of the low-hanging fruit off our tree, because quince have such a long growing season that they were NOT RIPE yet. So not only didn't WE get the quince, we know that no one else did either.