spinofflive
The Dann family quince tree (Photo: James Dann)
The Dann family quince tree (Photo: James Dann)

KaiApril 22, 2019

A tale of too many quinces

The Dann family quince tree (Photo: James Dann)
The Dann family quince tree (Photo: James Dann)

At this time of year, an abundance of this old-fashioned fruit is not a bad problem to have – especially if you’ve got the help of Aunt Daisy.

All through my childhood, there was a sad quince tree in the orchard. It was old and crooked, its trunk growing up a couple of metres before bending back toward the ground, as though it just gave up for a couple of decades. It barely ever produced any fruit, the odd quince every other year. But after some heavy pruning, it has sprung back to life, and now every Easter, my family has the very 19th-century-sounding problem of “too many quinces”.

Photo: James Dann

Quinces seem like an elegant, fancy fruit. Perhaps a bit pretentious. They need a lot of time and energy, and they aren’t to everyone’s taste. Often we’ll just stew them up in a 50-50 mix with apples, which adds a little texture and a pale pink hue. Over the years I’ve tried dozens of recipes, baking them into cakes, freezing them into sorbets and ice creams, even steeping them with vodka.

A number of the recipes I’ve tried have come from the classic Aunt Daisy’s cookbook. Quinces are a bit old-fashioned, so it isn’t surprising that a recipe book from the middle of last century has dozens of recipes for them. These include two recipes for marrow and quince jam, as well as a quince and pineapple honey, before we get to three recipes for conserve and two for jam. My pick is a versatile recipe that requires a bit of time, but needs only quinces, white sugar and water. I used about 2kg of quinces, which resulted in six full jars, with a bit left over.

Quince pieces in jelly: good on crackers, just add cheese (Photo: James Dann)

QUINCE PIECES IN JELLY

Wipe the quinces to ensure they are clean and not covered in fuzz. Peel and core the quinces, and place the peels and cores into a saucepan. Cover with water, then bring to the boil. Boil until the water turns to a pale pink colour, then strain, saving the liquid.

While the peels and cores are on the boil, take the rest of the quince and chop into small pieces – I aim for cubes about 2cm-3cm across. Weigh the quince pieces, then place into a heavy-bottomed pot. Cover with an equal weight of white sugar, and leave to sit overnight.

Also good on ice cream (Photo: James Dann)

The next day, add the strained liquid from the cores and peel to the quince pieces and sugar. No additional sugar or water is needed – the sugar will have extracted plenty from the quince pieces overnight.

Bring the quince pieces to the boil for around an hour, then reduce the heat. The longer you boil, the darker the jam will get – I prefer to leave it a little longer, until it goes almost a deep purple. This results in a stickier paste, best suited for spreading on a cracker with some cheese. If you prefer it a little less viscous, then remove the pan from the heat earlier, when it is a pinker shade of red.

Use a slotted spoon or a ladle to put the quince pieces into jars, and top up with the syrup.

Keep going!
toast

KaiApril 21, 2019

Here’s what the numbers on your toaster really mean

toast

A lesson on why you shouldn’t always believe what you read on the internet.

A few years back there was a meme, if you can even call it that, telling us that everything we knew about toasters was wrong. It explained that the numbers on our toasters – usually on a dial ranging from one to seven – were not levels of “toastiness”, but actually units of time.

Minds were blown, wigs were snatched, the public was shook. It made so much more sense than the abstract “toastiness” measure, and it seemed so much more plausible when you paused to think about: the longer you heat something, the more it cooks – right? And considering most kitchen appliances like microwaves and mini ovens have timers, wouldn’t it make sense for a toaster to have one too?

It seemed plausible – so plausible that I instantly dismissed my long-held beliefs as childish and wrong. I chose to subscribe to this far more logical answer, one that gave these numbers a quantitative value (minutes) rather than an arbitrary one.

Years passed and I didn’t question it. I accepted it, internalised it, didn’t think twice about it. Until I did think twice about it, and realised how wrong I was.

The following is the amount of time it took for The Spinoff’s toaster from The Warehouse to pop up with the dial set from one to seven. It doesn’t take a genius to see that the whole thing reads like a fucking mess.

1:  1m 30s
2:  1m 49s
3:  2m 12s
4:  2m 38s
5: 3m 8s
6:  3m 29s
7:  3m 55s

Same goes for the toaster I use at home, which really isn’t that great at all. 

1:  1m 29s
2:  1m 39s
3:  1m 55s
4:  2m 7s
5:  2m 22s
6:  2m 45s
7:  3m 14s

So if the meme was a lie and the numbers don’t mean minutes, what are they actually supposed to mean?

According to toaster manuals published by Sunbeam, DeLonghi, Russell Hobbs and a bunch of others, the dial is meant to control something called “browning” (aka how light or dark you want your toast). That means that yes, levels of “toastiness” is real and I was actually right all along.

Of course, if you’re the type of person who reads manuals for toasters, you probably already know this. Same goes for if you somehow came across this video by British YouTuber Tom Scott which shows four different toasters with their dials all set to “two” toasting bread for totally arbitrary lengths of time.

Scott explains that the reason for this is because toasters don’t have timing chips on them.

“They’re far too cheap for that,” he says. “What these have is a bi-metallic strip: two bits of metal, back-to-back that heat up and expand at different rates so the strip slowly curves. What you’re changing with these dials is how far that strip has to curve before it triggers that thing that pops the toast up again.”

But if you watch to the end of Scott’s video, you’ll know that the office toaster – the nice-looking metallic one at the very end – does actually stay down for exactly two minutes. Apparently, this is because some newer, more expensive toasters do actually use a circuit as a timer.

But for those of us who don’t have that kind of luxury, the fact remains that this “life pro tip” – which seemingly came out of nowhere with zero context – was just another big fat hoax. Remember, the internet is littered with these and they all go viral for various reasons. So why was I so ready to believe the toaster meme? Maybe because it was novel, it was shocking, but not so shocking that it wasn’t totally believable. Or maybe it was because I kept seeing it everywhere: on Facebook, on Twitter, and from people that I thought I trusted.

Or maybe I just wanted my toaster to make sense and I was too lazy to check whether it was bullshit or real.