Bossy Lisa: "I brought in a quince tarte tatin!"
Chinmayi: "Does it have 15 slices of fruit on it? What kind of fruit is it?"
Bossy Lisa: "It's quince. Why 15?"
Chinmayi: "Quince is 15. What kind of fruit?"
Bossy Lisa: "Quince..."
Yes indeed, quince (rhymes with "wince" in English and sounds like "keen-sey" in Spanish) means 15 in Spanish, so Chinmayi thought I had put 15 slices of some elusive fruit on the tart. It was really pretty funny. Most people in the office hadn't heard of quinces. And I suppose, were I not the Michelin-star restaurant dining über foodie that I am, I too might not know what quinces are. But it seems like SO OFTEN I'll get some type of quince compote served to me with foie gras as one of my 8+ chef's tasting menu courses when Michelin-star dining. *DROOL*
So, when a different coworker brought a box full of quinces into the office in early December, I pounced on them. Seems most people weren't taking them that day anyway... likely because they didn't know what they were!
I surfed the web looking for a tasty sounding recipe for these quinces and finally settled on this quince tarte tatin on epicurious. The ratings from those who had reviewed it were high, though it wasn't heavily reviewed to begin with. But I was gonna try it anyway.
You wouldn't believe what a strong perfume these fruits emanate. I had them at my desk for the afternoon and was overcome by the powerful fruity scent. Then once I had brought them home, they kept reminding me of themselves from my kitchen counter!
I'd never worked with quinces before but I assumed they'd be something like a pear or apple. But they really weren't. I'm not sure if the quinces I had were overly ripe or if they were normal, but they were sort of soft and not crisp like I'm used to apples/pears being. They were difficult to core because I felt like the core was rather wide, so I had to dig into each slice a bit deeper to get the core out. They turned brown almost immediately after peeling too. Good thing they were just going to be baked anyway!
The other way quinces are different from apples and pears is their flavor. While I consider both apples and pears to have a rather mellow flavor, quinces are tangy. Not as tangy as citrus, but definitely a standout taste. I hesitated before putting in the tablespoon of honey but was so glad I did afterward. It complimented the tangy quince flavor so nicely.
I followed the recipe precisely as it was written, with no problems. However, it's worth noting that I think I only used about 1 ½ pounds of quinces (weighed before coring & peeling). And I only baked the tarte for about 50 minutes before checking -- the quinces were nice and soft already, so out it came.
I probably could have rolled this thicker so as to fit the skillet perfectly
instead of having to tuck the sides down
instead of having to tuck the sides down
It's always a scary moment when you overturn that upside down cake / jello mold/ bundt cake / tarte tatin. One holds their breath while praying that the whole thing has actually landed on the serving plate as opposed to merely a portion of said masterful creation. But as promised by the recipe reviews: my whole tarte was on my serving plate. WHEW!
This tarte tatin was stupendous!! It came together so easily. I loved how simple the dough was and how nicely it complemented the flavor of the quinces with the honey and cinnamon. I found myself wishing I had more of it after it was all gone. It might only have been improved with a dollop of crème fraîche or maybe even vanilla ice cream (I'm such an American).
I got so many compliments on this tarte - such is always the case. Make something simple and rustic and get applauded. It almost doesn't seem fair.
I'll be paying attention at my markets for more quinces now. They're an autumn fruit, but so are apples and we all know those are available year 'round... As I type up this post I can't help but taste that tarte again. And I want to make more!