I sometimes wonder whetherthe creation story –specifically the bit about forbidden fruit – has been handed down a bit wrong. Much as I love apples, which are undoubtedly the fruit Ieat most often, it is their curvaceous cousin the pear – voluptuously shaped, scented andfloral, dripping with ambrosial juices – that seems most completely to encapsulate the idea of fruity temptation. The pear is an utterly desirable thing: fragrant and complex in flavour, silky on the tongue, yet rich and bold enough tobe blended with a whole bushel of different ingredients, sweet and savoury. Whether you're eating them straight from the fruit bowl orindulging in a little culinary experimentation, pears can be anabsolute dream.
They are not, however, straightforward. Pears are more tricky to grow successfully than apples – and even if they weren't, this year's terrible weather would have put even the most good-natured fruit tree into a sulk. Then, when you do get your hands on some of this shapely fruit, you haveto watch it. Pears are almost always picked when under-ripe because, ifleft too long on the tree, they become woolly and tasteless. So it's the job of you, the pear consumer, to judge the point of perfect ripeness, at which your pear will yield beneath your teeth with just the right degree of barely-there resistance, releasing those honeyed juices upon your tongue. For an avid pear fan such as myself, this can mean a kind of fruit-bowl vigil, with almost hourly checks to see how the fruit respond to a gentle squeeze. Well, daily, certainly. Miss that window of opportunity, and your pear can very quickly let itself go, sinking into a mushy, vaguely musty-tasting over-ripeness. Hitting the pear jackpot is by no means certain.
It's fortunate, then, that the slightly under-ripe pear is nevertheless an ingredient of great versatility – and even a slightly toosoft one can be put to good use. Still-firm pears can be poached in wine with citrus zest, fried with butter and ginger, roasted with spices, even baked on a pizza (trythem with kale, onions and blue cheese). Their texture is a positive boon in cooking, meaning they canspend a bit of time on the heat, absorbing other flavours, before they become too meltingly soft.
The optimum pear for using raw in salads is, I would say, just a shade less ripe than the perfect pear for eating au naturel; a salad of pear, blue cheese and walnuts is a classic, but this aromatic fruit also blends beautifully with other cheeses, aswell as with smoked fish, ham, bacon and other nuts. A pear that's too soft, meanwhile – so that you're a bit scared to pick it up for fear of apear explosion – will be perfectly purée-able, and ideal for use in smoothies or as a sorbet base.
The brown-flecked, elongated conference pear is by far the most familiar in the British Isles. It's relatively easy to grow, store and transport, which is partly why it outweighs all other pears in terms ofwhat's available to buy. Growers also say this variety is simply what sells well: we seem to find conference a very approachable pear, and it has become so ubiquitous as to be almost a fruit category in its own right. There's nothing wrong with conference – it's a good, reliable fruit, whether you eat it raw or cook it – but there are other, more floral, fragrant and interesting pear delights to be had. Doyenne du comice is a voluptuous, fat-bottomed fruit with a lovely, complex flavour, best served raw, that can be found fairly widely; and the perfumed williams is also no stranger to the shop shelves; concorde (originally the lovechild of a conference and comice) is another delicious fruit. There are many other excellent pear varieties – such as the perfumed, silky beurre hardy, the sweet durondeau, and the aromatic, rosy-red Louise Bonne of Jersey - but it is hard to find them, certainly in supermarkets or on the high street. Seek out, if you can, a traditional orchard – many now bring their fruit to farmers' markets – and see what's on offer. You might even catch some other treats, such as quince or medlars or fresh walnuts, too. The orchard gazetteer at england-in-particular.info is agood place to start looking.
When buying, you should expect a pear to be firm – although not rock hard, which may mean it was picked way too early and will never ripen properly. If the fruit gives just a little when gently pressed at the stalk end, that suggests it's approaching ripeness and should be good for raw consumption within a few days. But you don't want it to be soft or wrinkled around the stalk, even if the bulb is still firm, because this is often a sign of dehydration. At home, bring your pears on to tenderness by simply leaving them at cool room temperature, but to speed up the process, snuggle them next to a couple of ripe bananas, which produce lots of ethylene, a fruit-ripening gas. To slow them down, keep them in the fridge. Good luck with your vigil – and may you hit many pears at their peak this season.
Pear and frangipane tart
This rough-edged tart is incredibly easy to make. It also works well with apples. Serves eight to 10.
For the pastry
250g plain flour
125g cold unsalted butter, cut intosmall cubes
50g caster sugar
Pinch of salt
A pinch of ground cinnamon (optional)
For the pears
4 barely-ripe pears
2 tablespoons soft brown sugar
50g butter
1 tbsp demerara sugar
1 tbsp flaked almonds
For the frangipane
75g soft butter
75g caster sugar
1 large egg, lightly beaten
20g plain flour
75g ground almonds
A dash of vanilla extract
First make the pastry. Put the flour in a bowl, add the butter and rub inwith your fingertips until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs (or do this in a food processor). Stirin the sugar, salt and cinnamon, if using, and add enough cold water to bring the mix together into a medium-firm dough that is not too sticky (you'll probably need 50ml orthereabouts). On a floured surface, shape the dough into around, wrap in clingfilm and chill inthe fridge for 30 minutes.
Heat the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6 and grease a large baking tray or line it with baking parchment.
Peel, quarter and core the pears, then cut each quarter into two. Heatthe butter and sugar in a pan and, when bubbling, add the pears. Cook gently over a medium heat fora few minutes, until the pears arejust tender and you have abubbling toffee sauce. Drain the pears in a sieve, retaining all the sauce. Cool the sauce in the fridge for later.
For the frangipane mixture, creamthe butter and sugar together until fluffy. Add the egg, flour, almonds and vanilla, and beat well.
Roll out the pastry to a large, rough-edged circle no thinner than 4mm and place on the tray. Spread the frangipane over the pastry, leaving a 2cm border clear around the edge. Arrange the cooked pears on top, then sprinkle with the demerara sugar and flaked almonds.
Bake for 20 minutes, until the pastry is golden brown at the edges. Allow the tart to cool for 10-15 minutes, then serve trickled with alittle of the reserved toffee sauce, with some cream or ice-cream.
Smoked mackerel and pear salad
I love pears in salads with salty cheeses: this is a slightly different but very delicious take on the sweet-salty-bitter idea. Serves two as amain course, four as a starter.
2 just-ripe pears
About 75g (2-3 good handfuls) bitter or peppery leaves such as chicory leaves and/or rocket
150g smoked mackerel fillets
Lemon juice
Sea salt and freshly ground blackpepper
For the dressing
1 heaped tsp grainy mustard
1 tsp clear honey
1 tbsp lemon juice
3 tbsp olive oil
Whisk together all the dressing ingredients with a little salt and pepper until emulsified. Put about half the dressing in a bowl. Peel, quarter and core the pears, then cut each quarter in half lengthways, so you end up with eight slender pieces from each pear. Toss these in the dressing bowl to prevent browning.
Arrange the leaves over one large serving platter, or individual plates. Arrange the pieces of dressed pear over the top. Take the smoked mackerel off its skin, break the fish into large chunks with your fingers, and scatter over the pears. Trickle over some of the remaining dressing (you may not need every drop), givethe whole salad another squeeze oflemon juice and a final grinding ofblack pepper, and it's ready to serve. Fresh brown bread isalovelyaccompaniment.
Pears poached with cider and bay
This simple and elegant autumn dessert is a good one to make in advance. Serves four.
4 pears
75g caster sugar
2-3 strips lemon zest
4-5 bay leaves, torn in half
300ml dry cider
Peel the pears, but leave them intact. Put them in a saucepan intowhich they will fit fairly snugly in one layer. Add the sugar, lemon zest and bay leaves. Pour over the cider, then add enough water just tocover the pears. Bring to a simmer, cover and simmer until the pears are tender – the time this takes can vary greatly depending on the ripeness of the pears; it could be five minutes for ripe pears, or 25 for very firm ones, so keep checking them with the tip of a small, sharp knife.
When the pears are done, remove them from the pan with a slotted spoon and place in a dish. Turn up the heat under the liquor in the pan. Boil it down until is reduced by at least half and tastes sweet and intense. Pour the reduced liquor over the pears in their dish, leave to cool completely, then chill.
Before serving, spoon the juice inthe dish back over the chilled pears. They're very good just as theycome, but a spoonful of crème fraîche is alovely enrichment.
Pear and nut smoothie
The perfect use for a pear that's been left in the fruit bowl to the point where it's about to pass into over-ripeness. The spoonful ofnut butter makes this a smoothie that will really set you up for the day. Serves one.
1 ripe pear
2-3 tbsp plain, wholemilk yogurt
1 tbsp smooth nut butter
Pinch of ground cinnamon (optional)
Peel, quarter and core the pear. Put it in a blender with the yoghurt and nut butter – and the cinnamon, if you fancy it – and blend until smooth. Serve straight away. rivercottage.net
