Quince Conundrum

All my Briards have had a penchant for fruit - especially apples.  I tasted our first Winesap apple because of Barley's vigilance.  The tree (by the house) was always covered in blossoms, but seemed to never set fruit, not until we had added more apple trees to the orchard behind the chicken coop AND (yes, I have to admit it) - bees.  This reluctance to bearing fruit is due to the fact that the Winesap variety is triploid, and without going into a long biology lecture, it means that they need to be pollinated by another apple variety.  For that reason they are not common in stores.

One day I found a perfect large red apple, barely marked up by four slight dents from Barley's teeth.  Actually, it was mostly slobber.  I wiped that off, took a bite, and decided that this was my apple.  It was delicious.  Crunchy, crisp, sweet, tart, juicy, flavorful - everything a great apple should be.

I did shower praise and the apple core on Barley, so his efforts did not go without recognition.

Now that the Winesap produces a reliable and heavy crop I let the Briards help themselves to the apples that either fall or grow on the low branches.  Ralph will often carry in a whole apple and munch his way through it.  Decibel first plays with the 'edible balls', then chomps them up.  Sometimes Ralph will steal her apple.

When I make apple sauce Ralph will be at my feet and eat a large number of cores.  It hasn't caused any gastrointestinal upset.  Decibel will be by my feet as well, but she won't eat the apple cores.  She wants a whole one, or a nice slice.  She often begs for a bit of fruit, but prefers to eat the human-grade stuff, not the chicken bucket fillers or the stuff that fell on the ground.  Unless nobody's looking that is.

 
What does any of this have to do with Quince?


Well, two days ago I found a quince on the back patio.

For those not familiar with the fruit, quince is very hard, very sour, very bitter, and most quinces are completely inedible, unless cooked.  But when stewed, usually with pears, or better yet, when quince juice is made into jelly, quince is utterly delicious.  Very tart, with a floral aroma that is unique and reminds me of the essence of a perfect spring day.

 This is the first year our little quince tree has fruit, and I am very excited about it, and looking forward to making a batch of quince jelly in the fall.  I even looked up recipes on the Internet, and apparently 11 quinces or so should yield sufficient juice for a batch of jelly.

I counted 12 on the tree.

I seem to remember that we harvested quince after a frost.  Anyhow, they are supposed to ripen fairly late, but then this year everything is early.  And they are beginning to look nice and yellow.





But they do not have any scent yet, that hard to describe special quince aroma, and well, I just don't think they are quite ready yet.

Back to the quince from the back patio ...

In one way even quinces are like apples:  

They don't fall far from the tree.  

They certainly don't have the power of locomotion.  And upon closer examination the patio fruit revealed traces that hinted at a culprit, or at the very least an accessory to quince flight.

Quince-essential Briard

Because quinces are so hard, sour and bitter in the raw state, Decibel, my prime suspect, did not do much damage to the long-awaited rarity.  I also don't know whether she picked the low-hanging fruit, or simply made me aware of the 'wind fall' by placing it on the patio.  It wouldn't be the first time she did something like that.  Earlier in the year I found 4 perfectly ripe and completely unscathed tomatoes on the front steps, lined up.  I have no idea how long it took her to do that.  

So I examined the other quinces on the tree, and they seem to be firmly attached still.  Ripe fruit usually makes for easy pickings, so I am none the wiser.  Decibel, as per usual at my side, was eyeing them rather attentively.  

By the way, Decibel cannot SEE the fruit on the counter.  She "NOSE".

I told her they were mine, and she immediately did the innocent good dog bit, so I am still in the dark about the mystery journey of the migrating quince.

The conundrum is now:  What to do with the fallen fruit?  Can I make quince jelly with slightly unripe fruit?  Could they possibly be ready already?  Will they ripen off the tree?  

So I asked Harold to look it up:

Harold and his attentive assistant Decibel checking up on quince facts.  Was she feeling responsible for the conundrum?  Nah, Decibel loves to help.

Anyhow, it seems that quince will ripen off the tree, and that the fruits are not quite ready yet.  The good news is that once ripe the quince can be stored in the refrigerator for another 2 weeks.  So there is a good chance that the other quinces will ripen sufficiently for me to make a 12 quince jelly, as planned.

                                                             It's all coming up roses.