PEARS IN 500 WORDS
Words by Dave Adamshick, photo by Brett Warnock
NO JOHNNY APPLESEED HERE
An apple a day, apple cider, as wholesome as apple pie. Apples have the legend of Johnny Appleseed, and Comfort Me with Apples is the title of food writer Ruth Reichl's biography/memoir, borrowed from the Old Testament's astoundingly racy Song of Solomon. Where apples are well represented, pears come up short on aphorisms, proverbs, and as a general metonym.
Coming up short is how its detractors would feel about pears. Dismissing them as mealy, insipid, mushy, never better than meh, and according to a recent conversation with at least one member of the under-10 set, they are 'stupid.' Some pears can be stupid, but all foods can be stupid now and then: I can overlook the fruit's shortcomings because I love pears.
I may be in love, but I'm not oblivious —pears aren't easy. There are 3,000 commercial varieties of pears grown: We rarely have more options than Williams/Bartlett, Anjou, Comice, or the lovely Bosc, with its elongated neck rising elegantly from its sturdy base, it should be the perfect subject of a painting by an expressionist or proto-cubist, but pears are rarely subjects of still lifes.
Because pears of all varieties are hard to store: They can be mealy, unripe, or ripen unevenly with a squishy neck and firm base. Buying pears feels more like playing fruit roulette than a dependable apple purchase. That's understandable; food these days, especially fresh produce, is expensive, and it's hard to buy something that may not be enjoyable or could go bad before you get to eat it. Except that uncertainty is what makes biting into a fragrant, perfectly textured, juicy pear all the more satisfying, because we can never expect that outcome.
Pears, toasted walnuts, blue cheese.
BUTTER, BRANDY, OR OUT OF HAND
When ripe, eat out of hand. Pears go well with yogurt. Pears can elevate oatmeal, well as much as anything can elevate oatmeal. For a better breakfast, they pair well with French toast; remove the cooked slices from the pan, add an unhealthy amount of butter, sliced pears, and either brown sugar or maple syrup, maybe a splash of brandy, or better still, pear brandy, and cook until soft. Pour over the French toast and enjoy for breakfast, brunch, or breakfast for dinner.
Pears are amazingly good in salad, where they don't need to be ripe, just present. I enjoy a mustardy, vinegary dressing with crisp pears, arugula, and blue cheese - both Gorgonzola and something from the Stilton end of the spectrum work well here. Add lightly toasted pecans, walnuts, or hazelnuts to add crunch and texture.
It's hard to talk about fruit without thinking of dessert. Pears, because of moisture content, inconsistent texture, don't make great pie filling, but they look and taste lovely on top of tarts or squares of puff pastry filled with sweetened cream cheese or custard. They work in or on pound cake, especially when slices are topped with honeyed mascarpone. Even though this sounds like a slightly different way to serve French toast, bread pudding studded with pears and dried cranberries [cardamom rather than cinnamon] alongside a sip of amaro, is the perfect side to cool night temperatures.