Autumn is finally here. Not technically yet, but the past couple weeks I can already feel its presence. The light that filters through the windows has shifted, softer now, with a different slant. Cyclamens are blooming everywhere, the quince tree is bending under the weight of its fruit, our kabocha pumpkins are ready for harvest, and the birds have returned to the window where we leave seeds to help them through the colder months.
I always feel a touch of melancholy at this time of year. Part of me is delighted that autumn is around the corner with its promise of cosy days, mushroom foraging, and long evenings by the fire with friends. Another part already mourns the fading sun, the shortening days, and the hours of taking care of our potager, the French word for the kitchen garden.
I was looking to develop a recipe that captures all these feelings and translates them into something tangible something warm, gently sweet, and comforting enough to soften the edges of seasonal change. Quince felt like the perfect place to begin. It’s one of my favourite fruits, not just for its flavour, but for the memories it carries. Its arrival each year always takes me back to my motherland, where baskets of golden quinces would appear in markets and kitchens as summer gave way to autumn. There, you cook them slowly overnight with spices like cardamom until they turned a deep amber jam, filling the house with their floral, honeyed scent. Here, I make jars of poached quince at the start of the season. They're incredibly versatile. You can spoon them over your morning granola, serve them with yogurt or clotted cream, or, as in this recipe, layer them on top of a cake that feels like a quiet celebration of change. The roasted hazelnuts bring earthiness and warmth, a grounding element in this cake that, I hope, speaks to the heart of autumn itself.
It is a season of transition, and in its very nature it teaches us something about change: that joy and longing can exist side by side.
I hope you enjoy this recipe.
The Recipe
Roasted Hazelnut and Coffee Cake with Poached Quince
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Ingredients
120 grams all-purpose flour
80 grams toasted hazelnut flour
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp instant espresso powder
80 grams sugar
60 grams light or dark brown sugar
a pinch of salt
2 large eggs, room temperature
120 grams butter, melted at room temperature
65 grams full-fat milk
crème fraîche or whipped cream to serve
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Guide to poaching quince: I begin by weighing the fruit, then measure out sugar equal to 50% of the quince’s weight. I place the peeled and quartered quince in a heavy-bottomed pot, cover them with water just enough to submerge, add the sugar, and poach them gently with a cartouche for 4 to 6 hours, or until they turn a deep rosy hue. Additionally, you can add empty vanilla pods or a few cardamom pods to infuse the quince with a subtle, aromatic depth.
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This cake will serve 6 to 8 people
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Method
Preheat the oven to 150°C (fan-forced). Generously grease a 16 x 25 cm cake pan or a round 23 cm round cake pan with butter, and line the bottom and sides with parchment paper.
Sift the flour and baking powder into a large mixing bowl. Add the toasted hazelnut flour and salt, and mix well with a balloon whisk.
In a medium mixing bowl or a stand mixer, beat the sugars and eggs until pale (almost white) and aerated, about 3–4 minutes.
Slowly stream the melted butter into the egg mixture. Do not overmix.
Gently fold the dry ingredients into the egg mixture in two parts. Dissolve the espresso powder in the milk, and add it to the batter. Give it a final stir.
Pour the cake batter into the prepared pan and even the top.
Bake for 35-40 minutes, or until a wooden skewer inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean and the cake is golden brown. Leave to cool before slicing and serving.
When ready to serve, cut generous pieces of cake, add a very generous dollop of sour cream on top, with two slices of poached quince.
Noosh-e-Jaan, may it nourish your soul. x
Great! I looked at them in the garden of my grandma yesterday and was thinking "what am I going to do with you?" We often do a batch of membrillo, but it tends to end up at the back of the fridge. I will try to poach some and perhaps make a spreadable jam this year. Thank you!