Poached Quince With Yogurt

Gently simmered in a fragrant vanilla and honey syrup, this poached quince recipe turns this unique fruit into a melt-in-your-mouth treat.

Every year, as the days grow shorter and the air sharpens with the first bite of winter, I start scanning the produce aisles for a familiar shape. Round, knobby, golden-skinned quince. Tucked away near the apples and pears, they often go unnoticed, their tough exterior making them easy to pass by. But for those of us who grew up with them, their presence is unmistakable. 

When I spot them, usually in a small Middle Eastern grocery store, I reach for them without hesitation, my fingers brushing against their slightly fuzzy skin, already imagining the way they’ll fill my kitchen with their floral, honey-like aroma.

There was a time I saw raw quince in North America, I almost walked past them, not expecting to find something so familiar in a place that so often felt new. Back home, they weren’t anything special, just another fruit that showed up in winter, their perfume filling kitchens as they softened in a combination of honey, vanilla, and spices. Slowly, they would turn from pale gold to a rosy-red hue, their flavor deepening, their texture becoming rosy and tender.

My friend's grandmother used to poach them slowly, letting their sweetness bloom, spooning them over yogurt or tucking them into pastry. It was a quiet ritual, one I never thought much about until I moved away and realized how much I missed that scent, that warmth.

A Slow Simmer, The Scent of Home

The first time I tried to make quince myself, I got impatient. I cut into one with the wrong knife, struggling against the rock-hard flesh, and dropped a piece on the floor. I tried to rush the cooking, turning up the heat, thinking I could make them soften faster. It didn't work. The edges turned mushy while the centers stayed firm, and the syrup took on a bitterness I wasn’t expecting. 

I almost gave up right then, thinking maybe some things were better left to childhood. But I tried again. I learned to take my time, to let them simmer gently, to wait for the moment when they transformed, when their tartness mellowed, when the color shifted into something rich and glowing, when the scent wrapped around me like a memory made tangible.

It wasn’t until years later that I started making them myself with confidence, reclaiming those flavors in my own kitchen, much like I did with homemade lactose-free yogurt, another taste of home I once took for granted. There’s something grounding about cooking the foods you grew up with, about stirring a pot and catching a scent that brings back a memory so vividly it feels like stepping into another time.

Now, every winter, whenever I find them, I bring quince home without question. Sometimes I turn them into quince preserves, their sweetness spooned over toast or swirled into oatmeal. Other times, I poach them simply, slowly, coaxing out their honeyed fragrance and pairing them with things that make them shine. Whiskey, goat cheese, mascarpone, cardamom all go well with quince.

The first bite always reminds me why I go through the trouble, why I carve out time to stand by the stove and watch quince soften. Because some things are truly worth the wait.

Ingredients

• Quince – the star of this recipe. Their tough, unyielding flesh transforms into something soft and fragrant with slow cooking. If you’ve never worked with quince before, be patient, peeling and coring them takes effort, but the reward is a fruit unlike any other.
• Honey – I always add a bit of honey when poaching fruit, it brings out their natural flavors without overpowering them. It also gives the syrup a deeper, more complex sweetness than sugar alone.
• Lemon – keeps the quince from browning as you work and balances their floral sweetness. 
• Vanilla Bean – essential for warmth and depth. If you don’t have one, a splash of vanilla extract at the end will do, but the flavor won’t be as layered.

See the recipe card for full list and exact quantities.

How to Make This Poached Quince Recipe

Gently simmered in honey and vanilla, these poached quince turn tender, fragrant, and irresistibly sweet. Simple, elegant, and worth the wait. Here's how to make this recipe:

Prepare the Poaching Liquid

In a large non-reactive pot, combine water, honey, sugar, lemon halves, and the split vanilla bean. Place over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally until the sugar fully dissolves.

Prepare the Quince

While the liquid heats, quarter, peel, and core the quince, removing any tough or fibrous parts. Their flesh oxidizes quickly, so work efficiently.

Prevent Browning

As you finish each piece, immediately add it to the simmering liquid. The lemon in the poaching syrup helps preserve the quince’s color.

Simmer Gently

Once all the quince are in the pot, cover them with a round of parchment paper with a small hole cut in the center. This keeps the fruit submerged and ensures even cooking. Reduce the heat to maintain a gentle simmer. Avoid boiling, as rapid cooking can toughen the flesh.

Check for Doneness

Simmer for at least 1 hour, or until the quince turns tender and takes on a rosy hue. Depending on the fruit’s ripeness, cooking time may take up to 2 hours or more. Check doneness by piercing a piece with a sharp knife; it should glide through with little resistance.

Cool and Serve

Once fully cooked, remove the pot from heat and let the quince cool in the poaching liquid. This extra time allows the flavors to deepen.

Optional: spoon yogurt at the bottom of a bowl. Place the quince over it. This will add a creamy element that helps soften the fruit even further.

Serve the quince warm or chilled, drizzled with the infused syrup.

Storage

Poached quince only gets better with time, soaking up more of that fragrant syrup with each passing day. Keep them nestled in their liquid in an airtight container in the fridge, and they’ll stay delicious for up to two weeks.

Need to save them for later? Tuck them into a freezer-safe container, syrup and all, and freeze for up to three months. Let them thaw slowly in the fridge overnight, and they’ll be just as lovely.

For a longer stash, you can preserve them by canning. Sealed in jars with their syrup, they’ll keep for up to a year.

What to Serve With Poached Quince

There’s something about the slow transformation of quince that feels like a little bit of magic, turning the firm, pale fruit into something soft, fragrant, and blushing. It’s the kind of treat that deserves to be paired with something just as special but effortlessly simple.

I love serving poached quince alongside Jewish Honey Apple Cake, the spiced, tender crumb plays beautifully with the delicate perfume of the fruit. A slice of cake, a few spoonfuls of poached quince, and a cup of tea make for the kind of quiet indulgence that turns an ordinary afternoon into something memorable.

For a cozy, comforting breakfast, try spooning poached quince over Homemade Labneh with a drizzle of the poaching syrup. The creamy, tangy labneh balances the quince’s honeyed notes perfectly. Add a handful of nuts for crunch, and it’s a simple but satisfying way to start the day.

If you’re in the mood for something warm, serve the quince with Cinnamon Walnut Buns. The soft, nutty rolls soak up the fragrant syrup, making each bite even more decadent. It’s the kind of pairing that makes you want to curl up by the window and watch the world slow down.

Or try a Gluten-Free Pumpkin Spice Cake, the warm cinnamon and nutmeg bring out the quince’s floral notes, and the cake’s soft texture is perfect for soaking up a drizzle of that fragrant poaching syrup.

Recipe