Sep 29, 2014 3 min read

Late last summer, shortly after my mom passed away, I sampled some of what she called “Japonica jelly” that I found on the top shelf of her canned goods pantry. As it was a homemade confection, I fully expected it to be delicious, and it was, though it was more tart than I expected.

I asked my dad about it, and he told me it was made from the juice of quinces grown in their yard. He told me there was some juice left in the freezer if I wanted to take it and make some of my own.

I did, following a recipe I found online. Surprisingly, quince jelly needs no pectin, as the fruit contains enough to thicken and gel naturally on its own.

The jelly I made was just as delicious as my mom’s, though mine was not the lovely pinkish color hers was. I can only assume the juice darkened from either the freezing or thawing process.

When their quinces ripened last fall, I took those as well, and made more jelly because, well, I have three kids who can eat more than a pint of jelly per week if I let them. This time, the jelly was the proper color and thickened better than the first batch. I’m not sure if it’s because the juice was fresh or that I cooked it for a better amount of time, but I was pleased with the results.

I was still unsure of why Mom called the jelly Japonica, as opposed to quince jelly.

Again, I turned to the Internet for assistance, where I learned Japonica is defined as anything having to do with Japan.

There are numerous things like shrubs, insects, rice and – you guessed it – quince, that are all referred to as being Japonica varieties. I suppose her quince are the hardier variety attributed to Japanese plants.

I also learned quinces will crack and split in dry years if the tree is young and/or unwatered.

That was not the case this year, as the rainy summer made for a bumper crop.

Dad called the other day and told me he picked the quinces and he, needing no jelly, wondered if I wanted them. I expected the delivery to be somewhere in the neighborhood of the half of a five-gallon bucket I received last year, but was pleasantly surprised (oh my goodness, I’ll never get to the end!) to see approximately two bushels.

I haven’t begun the days-long process of making the jelly (they cook for several hours, then hang to drain the juice overnight before jelly can even be made) but I’ll get to it.

I also found a recipe that is made from the pulpy remnants of the fruit after the juice is rendered out.

It looks similar to apple butter, and is said to be excellent when paired with cheese.

I’m not sure how we’ll consume ours, but I know we will, indeed, consume it, and will likely be rationing our last jar of it long before next fall and next year’s crop.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.