Spicery has long been at the heart of North Arlene politics, economics and cuisine, and this recipe evokes all three. Besides the presence of cinnamon, allspice and cloves—all grown on or near the Peninsula, and traded in bulk to the more southerly realms for generations—the fruits are also regionally typical, and (due to the warm northern climate) tend to come into season together, lending themselves naturally to treatments like this.

The North Arlene quince (Arl./N.Arl. kahmdeit, “stone-apple”) is an almost exact congener to our own Earth’s Cydonia oblonga. In the North Arlene subtropical climate, always so hospitable to both stoned and soft fruits, the quince—which no one in their right mind  could ever consider a “soft fruit”—routinely starts coming to ripeness well before the First of Summer. Around then boatloads of it are already making their way down the rivers Arlid, Darst and Stel to major and minor city markets, destined to be turned into confectionery and sweets, added to jams and tracklements, and incorporated into various savoury dishes (such as the well known southern Arlene meat-and-fruit stews).

Less well known is how significant a portion of the quince harvest from the half-wild orchard region in the vicinity of the Eorlhowe makes its way southward to a distilling family based near Durhênded, there to become the basis of a uniquely spiced, sweet-and-sharp-fragranced quince liquor called Leineidhekh (N.Arl. “final [golden] flower”). Its makers, the tai-Emuinlê clan, are one of the last remnants of the feuding “spice families” whose generation-spanning enmity contributed to the downfall of the North Arlene Crown, as set out in the Enedhwáilion lay-cycle. Because of this the liquor is routinely described as “cursed”… though that appears not to particularly harm its popularity, or its sales.*

The other fruit involved in this tart is the local equivalent to the sweet golden plum often called “Mirabelle” in our Earth’s central Europe (Prunus domestica subsp. syriaca). All across the northern reaches of the Kingdoms, this plum is known by its Darthene name alledekh, “gold nugget.” Distinguished among plums for its unusual sweetness, the golden plum marries perfectly with the almost floral, honeyed flavor of the cooked quince to produce a beautifully balanced sweet.

Over time, variants of the recipe have developed that add the flavors of local wines or liqueurs to the mix. This version follows a recipe thought to have originated seveal centuries back in the great public kitchens of the Arlene royal castle Kynall. In this variant, the quince—already baked once to make it slightly softer and less recalcitrant to deal with—is simmered for an hour or so in a local white wine (and picks up its characteristic rosy “cooked” tinge) before being introduced to the plum slices and put into a pastry case. The use of a dark brown sugar to develop the juices of the plums, however, immediately reconfirms the sweet’s North Arlene origins as something devised in or near the Peninsula’s coastline “sugaring country.”

See the recipe card below for the ingredients and method. 

*Once a year the tai-Emuinlê send a cask of their quince distillate to Prydon as a “peppercorn” tribute to the Throne of Arlen. In a traditional comment on political difficulties now more than a thousand years past, the Throne’s occupant immediately ceremonially repudiates this offering in the manner that suits them best—pouring the liquor into the Arlid having been a past favorite. (The current occupant of the Throne apparently now makes a habit of promptly forwarding the gifted firkin to Dariw of Steldin. However, song-sheet rumors that in the first year of his rulership King Freelorn had a painted sugar-plate and almond-paste effigy of his head packed into the cask along with the booze are, to date, unconfirmed.)