Quince Jam {Marmelada da Avó}

It’s the season of quinces, for most Americans they walk right past these pear-like fruits unknowing what they are, but in Portugal where fields of trees bear these fruits  it’s picking time. Here in the states, quinces can be expensive, often seen as a luxury fruit, but in Portugal where one grows apples and peaches, one also grow quinces. Not to be eaten fresh off the tree, for they are sour, but to made into a breakfast and tea time favorite, “marmelada”. Marmelades themselves have a thicker consistency; soft enough to spoon, yet solid enough to slice with a knife. The term marmalade, originally meaning quince jam, comes from the Portuguese word for this fruit, “marmelo”. This time last year my grandparents had come from Portugal to spend some time with us, and aside from looking forward to having them near, I was most looking forward to my very own jar of freshly made marmelada by my grandmother. Not many people in my family look forward to this treat as I do, but as long as my grandmother can make it I will indulge in it. On a rainy fall afternoon I was missing the taste of my grandmother’s cooking, and with quinces I had picked up earlier at the market, I grabbed her recipe books I took from her kitchen years ago, and opened the page to make her marmelada myself.  Quinces most resemble pears, yet smell like apples when peeled. When raw the fruit is tough, making it a bit hard to remove its core, but once cooked they become soft and richly thick. It’s amazing how different fruits produce varying consistency jams. Not much different from making this applesauce, the ratio of fruit, sugar, and water makes a big difference in the desired final result of your jam. As they cook down, the quinces glisten, as if being candied and smell of pure sweetness.

Per my grandmother’s suggestion, marmelade tastes better when made with under ripened quinces, it makes for a better consistency. I wanted to keep it traditional too, no added spices, just the way my grandmother and generations in Portugal have made before me. Marmelada is much like the Portuguese lifestyle. It represents the fertility and uniqueness of the land, the importance and value people give it, as it is a dominant means of providing for their families and living sustainability. But it’s also a delight, one that requires no effort, and that is very much like the culture’s cuisine. Simplistic, yet flavorful and rich. Unlike some homemade Portuguese marmalades, they can become overly sweet, as traditional recipes call for a one to one ratio of quince to sugar. The one I made on the other hand, is subtly sweet and allows the delicious quince flavor to come through. Plus, my grandmother added that only half of the sugar mentioned in her recipe is needed. It’s amazing that even thousands of miles across the ocean, and in different countries, I can call her and we can discuss our family recipes. I’m grateful for it everyday, and a taste of this delicious marmalade reminds me of it every time.  With the holidays upon us, it’s a time to showcase family recipes and traditions. Add this quince jam onto your cheese boards, along with these specially seasoned roasted seeds, for a really simple and delicious treat for guests this season.

I love nothing more than a thick slice of toasted rustic bread with this marmalade on a cold morning with a hot mug of pumpkin spiced coffee. And when I’m feeling a gourmet snack, I’ll top a slice of soft brie with a spoonful of this marmalade. And so this marmalade is an ode to my grandmother, whose cooking resembles her unique name translated as Happy Beautiful.

Quince Jam {Marmelada}

Ingredients {Makes about 6 cups}

2.2 pounds, about 8 {1 kg} – Quinces {peeled, cored and quartered}

1.2 pounds {500 grams} – Granulated Sugar

1 cup – Water

Recipe

In a large pot, add the chopped quinces, sugar, and water. Bring to a boil, and cook until fruit is cooked completely through {about 30 to 40 minutes}. Remove from heat, and blend until completely smooth with an imersion blender {or in a high power blender}. The marmalade will be thick. Place into an air-tight container of choice, and refrigerate for 6 months to a year.