In which one Washingtonian figures out what the heck to do with local and seasonal ingredients in a kitchen the size of a shoe box.

It is rare these days that I come across a fruit I’ve never eaten, cooked or even seen before. So when I saw a crate marked “quince, $2.99/lb” at a stand at the market on Sunday morning, I couldn’t resist its pull.

Inside that crate was a pile of totally unexciting, greenish-yellow fruits. “So, what do I do with something like this?” I asked the woman on the other side of the table.

“Well, you could make something like a jelly or a paste, if you want something labor intensive.”

I had theater tickets that afternoon. Canning was not in my immediate future. I wanted another suggestion; perhaps something involving less work.

“Well, I’ve been poaching them in Riesling, then eating them over ice cream or slicing them into stew.” Are they sweet or savory, I asked, confused by the idea of quince stew.

“Oh, they’re savory, but people like to cook them with sugar.” I was officially intrigued.

I bought four quinces and took them home, resolving to figure something out and curious about how to work with them.

First, though, I had to do some research about this mystery fruit. I knew I wanted to poach them in Riesling, but I had nothing else to go on beyond that. My research turned up quite a bit about this fascinating little fruit.

Quinces belong to the same family as apple and pears, but are always rock hard, regardless of their ripeness. You can tell if they are ripe because their skin will turn from green to a yellow or rosy color. Raw, the quince is nearly inedible — astringent, bitter and hard. (I tried a little piece of it raw, as I was cooking it, just to see (and just so you don’t have to!); they are awful raw.

Quince skins contain large amounts of pectin — the stuff that makes your jams gel — which is why they are particular good for jellies and pastes. Their skins also contain lactones and violet ionones, which sounds to me like a bunch of gibberish but accounts for the heavenly smell coming out of these little guys. They smell strongly of pears, pina coladas and perfume, all at the same time.

All of this is well and good, but how to cook the things? When faced with an ingredient I’ve never cooked with before, I usually turn to How to Cook Everything, Mark Bittman’s 900-page tome of simple recipes for every food … except quinces. Quinces apparently fall outside the “everything” umbrella.

What to do at a time like this? I went next to the Internet, and while I couldn’t find exactly what I had in mind, I was able to piece together a recipe that made for a simple, sweet-smelling and light dessert.

Your house or apartment will smell of pear and lemon perfume from the glorious poaching liquid. When you cook the liquid down into a syrup, it turns a lovely ruby color thanks to the anthocyanin pigment present in quinces. The quinces soften to the gritty consistency of a poached pear but with a sharper sweetness. The syrup is a little spicy, and ricotta adds a mild creaminess to round it out. Plus, your guests will be impressed with your extensive knowledge of the botany of the quince.

Riesling Poached Quince with Ricotta

Serves 4 for dessert. Takes 1.5 hours, 1 hour of which is inactive

2 c. of Riesling Zest of one lemon (1/2 tsp. of zest) Juice of half a lemon 1/2 c. sugar 1/4 tsp. ground ginger 2 whole cloves 2 quinces, peeled, cored and cut into eights (please be careful when prepping the quinces. They are extremely hard, so make sure your knife is sharp and you keep your fingers out of the way.) Fresh ricotta cheese, for serving

In a small saucepan, combine the Riesling, lemon zest, lemon juice, sugar, ginger and cloves. Warm the liquid, stirring, until the sugar is dissolved.

Add the quinces, bring the heat up to a boil then cover. Turn the heat down to low and simmer for an hour.

When the quinces are cooked through and soft, remove them with a slotted spoon. Turn the heat up to medium, and reduce the poaching liquid until it is a thick syrup and turns a ruby red color, about 15 minutes.

To serve, spoon a tablespoon or so of ricotta into a dessert bowl, place 4 or so slices of quince over the cheese, and drizzle with a generous amount of the syrup. You could also serve the fruit and syrup over ice cream, yogurt, or even pound cake.