“You loved me the other day. You wanted me to sit beside you in the dark. Didn’t I feel it – didn’t I know? There’s something between us – a sort of pull. Something you always do to me and I to you.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald, from Presumption.
I thought of you last night, then the fruit shrivelled and fell at my feet. I didn’t reach for them, couldn’t. For I’m not the kind that’ll take rot, and put it in my mouth, and call it something-like-survival. They had the look of sweetness, but also disease, and I questioned whether I ever knew the difference. But spoiled seeds stuck inside teeth taught me more than eyes ever did.
“I wish he’d never looked at me like that.”
And I’m back at the place where it all began. From the outside, the same, but everything has changed. The birds are still crying. I heard them before I saw them and went outside. They didn’t mind. More interested in fleshly, fallen, fruit, than any other kind. And that’s how it goes on this earth, nothing, but a discourse between love and lose. I like how close the letters in those words are, with only the slip of a hand, to ruin, or repair it.
“Darling, there are consequences for falling.”
I wonder if the trees notice the absence of fruit. And who tells them to fall, and how do they know, it’s time. But after enough coldness, well, we’d do anything just to feel something. It’s winter, and this is called wither, and now, skin hurts.
“But how do you let go?”
I never had the right hands for it. More interested in taking, than giving, and clutching, than releasing. But that’s what he liked about them. I had the right amount of flesh, and he, a shotgun and the eye and aim of a hunter, with enough stomach to contain this hunger.
“Don’t ask me to reach for you again.”
Then there’s talk of lambs and parables and I grow tired. So, love, wanes, and wolves howl at the moon against their own useless condition. And I sit, watching trees release dead fruit, promising, I’ll do the same.
But I often lie.
We both know that what’s told at night is never remembered in the morning.
Poached Quince Cake
There are no wrong ways to poach a quince. From spices, to liquors, and herbs - it’s personal. You just want to make sure that your liquid covers the fruit, and that it reaches close-to-tender, when done. If quince isn’t available, pear, is a wonderful substitution, too.
for the quince:
a large quince (about 450 g), 480 ml (2 cups) water, 150 g (3/4 cup) granulated sugar, 60 ml (1/4 cup) brandy, a thick strip of orange peel, a cinnamon quill, a few cloves, a star anise
Cut the quince into eighths, removing the cores, and placing them into a deep and heavy saucepan. Add the water, sugar, brandy, and aromatics. Give everything a good stir, then enclose with a cartouche. Set over the stove. Bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar, then lower the heat, and simmer, until near tender. It’ll take a bit of time. When done, the quince should still have some give to them, and the syrup thick, and well-reduced. Set the fruit aside.
for the cake:
115 g (1 ¼ cups) almond meal, 90 g (2/3 cup + 1 tablespoon) all-purpose flour, 85 g (3/4 cup + 2 tablespoons) hazelnut meal, 2 teaspoons of baking powder, half a teaspoon of ground cinnamon, a quarter teaspoon of ground nutmeg, a pinch of ground cloves, a quarter teaspoon of salt, 230 g (1 cup) unsalted butter (soft), 165 g (3/4 cup) light brown sugar, 65 g (3 tablespoons) honey, 3 large eggs (at room temperature), a teaspoon of vanilla extract, 65 g (1/3 cup + 1 tablespoon) chopped dark chocolate, a scant handful of chopped hazelnuts (for the top), confectioners’ sugar (for finishing)
Pre-heat the oven to 180 C (350 F). Grease and line a 20-cm (8-inch) cake pan with baking paper.
Sift together the almond meal, flour, hazelnut meal, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and salt.
In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter, sugar, and honey on medium speed, until creamy and caramel in colour, near to five minutes. Pause mixing to scrape down the bowl, then resume mixing, and add in the eggs, one at a time, beating, until aerated. Beat in the vanilla. Lower the speed and beat in the dry ingredients. Remove the bowl and add in the chocolate, folding with a large rubber spatula, until distributed. Scrape into the pan.
Adorn the top with the quince, using a little force to push them into the batter. Scatter with hazelnuts.
Bake for about 50 minutes, until golden brown. A skewer inserted into the middle should come out with a few moist crumbs attached. Allow to cool in the pan for around 15 minutes, before transferring onto a wire rack to cool further. Dust with confectioners’ sugar, before serving.