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Bring me your quince recipes. Please! My latest foraging score is my neighbor’s quince, which I’ve determined is not real quince but, rather, ornamental quince. (As an indication of my lack of quince sophistication, the ornamental variety is the only one I previously knew about.) I think it’s Pseudocydonia, however, rather than Chaenomeles (aka Japonica), but in either case known as flowering quince, a pretty shrub that my mother liked.

Quince, on the bush

In either case, also, the ornamental variety isn’t exactly known for its succulent qualities. From Cornell:

Most of these ornamentals produce fruits that are hard and nearly inedible, though they have a high pectin content and are occasionally mixed with other fruits in jellies and preserves.

And then there’s this from University of Arkansas (although it’s talking about Chaenomeles):

These tart fruit can be used in jelly making, but are usually produced erratically and in small numbers so few jelly makers ever get good at perfecting their art.

I’d be ready to give up altogether if it weren’t for the Cottage Smallholder, which has blogged about recipes for ornamental quince. The writer’s descriptions, however, are so contrary to the above two, it makes me wonder whether the fruit in (relatively) cool, moist England might be rather different from that on the frequently harsher weather side of the Atlantic.

So, if you have an opinion, or better yet knowledge, let us know. What would you do with my quince? I have about 1 1/4 pounds, and they do smell lovely. Should I attempt marmalade? Add them to an apple dish? C’mon, help me out here!

P.S. They range from about the size of a PingPong ball to the size of a handball or racquetball. Hence: I’m going for something using a food mill or such, not a recipe that involves peeling the things!

Applooza came to the Lawrence Farmers Market last weekend, and what a treat! Apples, apples and more apples burdened the vendors’ tables, and former market apple mainstay Laurie Walters answered questions under the market tent where 18 varieties of apple (by my count) were available for tasting.

Walters (in red sweater) talks apples.

I tried several new-to-me varieties but stupidly didn’t take anything to write on and, therefore, don’t remember which tastes went with what flavors. Nevertheless, based partly on the tasting and partly on Joanne’s recommendations, I bought a half-dozen or so of both Arkansas Black and Honeycrisp apples.

Then I came upon Floyd Ott’s table. Ott, another familiar face at the market, had apples upon apples, by the pound and by the bucket. (A Journal-World story in 1997 had him growing 60 varieties!) How could I resist a 5-gallon bucket of apples for $5? Well, I couldn’t. These are supposedly “seconds,” but whatever flaws they have are primarily cosmetic. I told him I wanted apples for pies, and Ott recommended a bucket with mostly Jonathan (I think) and Golden Delicious. As he transferred the apples to two one-peck bags (each totaling about 10 pounds), we talked about apples and chemicals.

Total price: $5

Ott said, yes, he sprays his apples, twice each season compared with three or four times for many area orchardists. But, no, he’s tested and there’s no residue come harvest. I’m probably odd, but I’m more concerned about residue in the environment than in my mouth, and I’m reasonably ignorant on these matters. Still, spraying twice sounds better than spraying four times, and no one around here grows apples organically. (I seem to recall hearing that the relatively high humidity compared with, say, Washington, makes organic apple growing more difficult here due to fungus potential.)

I’ve been eating more than my daily apple but haven’t gotten around to doing any of the prep that those 20 pounds of apples may require to cook. I’ll get to it one of these days. I’ll probably make pies and crisps and freeze some prepped slices. What do you like to do with my favorite fall fruit?

After years of attraction to, but avoidance of, tarte Tatin recipes, I finally gave in the other day so as to use my latest free food—old-fashioned, gritty pears from my neighbors’ tree.

Angela & Michael have a prolific pear tree that had been heavy with fruit but was nearing the end of its production. I snagged an armful and invited Angela over for dessert to celebrate her stepdaughter’s birthday, since both Michael and the stepdaughter were out of town. For heaven knows what reason, I decided this was the day I’d do a tarte Tatin. A pear tarte Tatin, to be specific.

Getting ready

I started pulling cookbooks and scanning the recipes. Rustic! they said. Simple! they said. Hey! I’m a good cook, I said. How hard can it be (even if it did include one of my cooking fears, namely caramelizing sugar)?

At this stage, I probably should have reminded myself that the Tatin sisters who originated the dish were (a) French, (b) living in the 19th century and therefore had a different idea of what “simple” means and (c) professional cooks at their hotel.

However, I did not remind myself of that. Instead, I scanned the recipes in Bistro Cooking and in the Gourmet Cookbook and in Chez Panisse Menu Cookbook and Mastering the Art of French Cooking. Based on that exercise, I decided that, sure, I could make a small tarte Tatin in my small iron skillet, top it with pastry and bake it in my toaster oven. Simple! Rustic! [Read more →]

A big week for food fans is shaping up here in Lawrence, and there are other items of interest, too. Read on…

Put these activities on your schedules:

• Friday, Oct. 3: Chef Kurt Michael Friese will speak and sign his book, A Cook’s Journey: Slow Food in the Heartland at KU.
• Saturday and Sunday, Oct. 4-5: Kaw Valley Farm Tour. I had a great time last year. Not sure I’ll be able to make it this year, but if I do I hope to catch places I missed then.
• Wednesday, Oct. 8: Lawrence Originals, a showcase of locally owned restaurants’ food, makes its first appearance.

Who needs farmland? Developers’ attorney suggests Douglas County has plenty. Maybe he likes his food tasteless. (LJW Town Talk)

Food and farm philosophies. Sustainable ag gets its due at the Land Institute’s Prairie Festival, but Kansas’ senators believe in industrial. (Salina Journal) Meanwhile, keynote speaker Barbara Kingsolver inspires the festival’s crowd. (Salina Journal)

I forgot I had a potluck to attend last weekend, so I reached for an easy, reliable and always welcome recipe: Katharine Hepburn Brownies. You can find these brownies all over the Internet (at Patti Cakes, at Angelnina’s Cottage and The Gourmet Project, to name three).  I found it in my Gourmet cookbook. You cannot, however, find these brownies left over after a potluck.

Katharine Hepburn brownies

• 2 squares (ounces) unsweetened chocolate
• 1 stick (1/4 pound) butter
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts (optional)

1.  Melt the chocolate with the butter over low heat in 2-quart saucepan.

2.  Remove from heat and stir in the sugar, eggs and vanilla; blend well.

3.  Stir in the flour and salt and walnuts, if desired.

4.  Pour the batter into an buttered and floured 8-inch square pan. Bake 35-40 minutes at 325 degrees F or until a toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool, then cut and serve. Makes 16-20 brownies (depending on how you cut them).

What do you do when someone gives you nearly a peck of (unpickled) hot peppers like these? If you’re like me, you freeze them. (Of course, you could also pickle them.)

I no doubt harmed their quality by letting them sit in the fridge for a week, but then I dug in. I washed them, lopped off their tops, split them lengthwise and removed membranes and seeds with a quick flip of a paring knife. Then I filled two quart-size freezer bags with them and put them in the freezer. That was it.

Unlike most fruits and vegetables, you can freeze peppers—hot peppers or sweet (bell) peppers—without blanching. The University of Nebraska extension office says you don’t even need to cut your hot peppers. I did, though, because I wasn’t sure how hot these peppers might be. (They seemed too small for banana peppers, and I’m not sufficiently pepper-savvy to identify the type, but the friend who gave them to me said they were superhot. I finally tasted one about halfway through my exercise, and they weren’t all that hot.) No matter, they’re ready to go into soups, casseroles or wherever I want them. I can leave them halved or chop them later.

TIP: Don’t forget either to use fork and knife to hold and cut your hot peppers or to wear rubber gloves while you work unless you’re exceedingly tough like my brother-in-law. Hot pepper juice does burn—especially if you make the highly unfortunate mistake of getting it in any tender areas such as your eyes or nose.