BRATTLEBORO — It has been suggested that it was the pear, not the apple, that tempted Eve in her act of defiance.
Just one look at its shape is pretty convincing. Its elongated form suggests that of a voluptuous woman, tapered at the top and rounded at the bottom.
Apples seem to me pretty straightforward and accessible, while pears appear sensuous, mysterious, and complicated, the perfect choice for temptation. They are in full season this time of year and readily available for those of us whose sins are, for the most part, limited to the kitchen.
A recent trip around town revealed a startling number of varieties: yellow and red Bartletts, long freckled Boscs, green and red Anjous, little blushing Seckels, fat golden Comice, tall and thin green Concordes, and the rounder light tan Asian. Each possesses its own distinctive characteristics and behaves differently when cooked. Understanding these qualities will make for happier results.
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There are two basic types of pears: European and Asian, both species of the genus Pyrus.
Almost all the pears we purchase here in Vermont are of the European type. European pears do not ripen on the tree and are harvested when they are mature but still hard. Apples can be eaten right off the branch, but pears must undergo a period of transformation after picking while they ripen, from the inside out.
Commercial growers subject the fruit to a treatment of cold for a number of days before allowing the pears to experience room temperature. Pears purchased locally should merely be left in a bowl on the counter. You can speed the process by putting the pears in a brown paper bag; some suggest that you include a banana to encourage the production of ethylene gas.
However you let your pears ripen, you will know they are ready when the tapered top near the stem yields slightly after you apply a gentle thumb pressure. Check the pears every day. The window between perfection and mush is thin.
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Why do pears become so easily mealy and grainy when overripe? Pears contain a particular kind of fiber made up of sclerenchyma, or ”stone,” cells that produce a gritty texture, especially in pears that have been ripened improperly or left too long on the tree.
Apples get mealy for the most part when they are stored too long and the sugar that holds their cells together weakens, turns to starch, and all the juiciness in them disappears. Peaches turn mealy when they have been picked ripe and then refrigerated, which causes the same change from sugar to starch. (Doing so also promises certain death for tomatoes as well.)
Try to buy small amounts of these fruits, keep your eye on them and, when they are ripe, eat them. To bite into a mealy or grainy piece of fruit has been said to epitomize the pain of unfulfilled expectations. Who needs more of that?
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Let's start with Asian pears. There are many fantastic varieties of this type of pear, but we here in Vermont seem to end up with only one. This variety in appearance resembles an apple and, like an apple, is picked ripe off the tree. They are round and light brown with lighter speckles on the skin.
Unlike European pears when ripe, Asian pears have a very crisp firm texture. I believe that they are better when eaten raw, and they are delicious in salads with spicy greens like watercress, or made into slaw like this:
For 6 servings, take 2 peeled and cored Asian pears and cut the flesh into matchsticks. If you don't want to take the time to cut all those little julienne pieces, just grate the pear on the coarse side of a standing grater.
Repeat one or the other technique with 2 ribs of crisp celery.
Thinly slice 2 scallions on the diagonal.
Coarsely chop ¼ cup of cilantro leaves.
Combine in a medium bowl.
Whisk together 3 tablespoons of fresh lime juice, 2 tablespoons of rice vinegar, a teaspoon of grated fresh ginger, and an optional ½ teaspoon of finely minced hot pepper if you like a kick of heat.
Toss the vegetables with this mixture and let them sit for about 20 minutes before serving.
This slaw is a perfect accompaniment to roast pork or piled inside a turkey sandwich.
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European pears can be divided into two broad categories: eating and cooking. I think the cooking category can be divided further into baking and poaching/roasting.
Let's start with the latter. The Seckel pear is like a perfect little baby pear in size, but a fully mature pear in taste. These pears are actually great eaten out of hand but especially well suited for poaching or roasting.
Here is a truly simple recipe for four that turns these diminutive, shy fruits into something truly luscious.
Pre-heat the oven to 400 F. Cut 8 washed Seckel pears in half lengthwise. Don't peel.
Melt half a stick of butter with 3 tablespoons of maple syrup.
Toss the pears in this mixture.
Sprinkle with a bit of salt and pepper and roast on a baking sheet, cut-side down, for 20 minutes until soft and caramelized.
Serve with vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, crème fraîche, or a perfectly ripe, bloomy-rind goat cheese. Just cut around the cores, or better yet, suck the goodness out of them and (discreetly, of course) spit the remnants out.
A simple poaching in wine is one of the best ways to eat a pear. I usually use the Bosc variety because I love their shape and because they hold their texture perfectly when cooked. Either color of Bartlett or Anjou would work as well.
Concordes are shaped like Bosc but green. For some reason they don't brown as easily as other pears when cut, but I think they have a weak flavor.
This recipe serves four and will keep you near the stove for an hour and should be made in the morning to eat that evening.
In a medium saucepan, combine a bottle of an inexpensive but drinkable white wine with 1 cup of sugar and 1 scraped vanilla bean. Bring to a boil and turn down to a simmer.
Peel 4 firm Bosc pears, leaving the stem and coring them from the bottom. I use one of those little serrated apple corers.
Immerse the pears in the simmering sweetened wine and place a heavy lid, smaller than the size of the pan, on top of the pears to make sure they stay submerged.
Maintaining a gentle simmer, cook for 30 minutes, until a sharp knife easily pierces their flesh. Let cool for 15 minutes.
Transfer each pear to its own tall wine glass and set aside.
Put the saucepan with the wine mixture back on medium-high heat, remove the vanilla bean, and cook, stirring occasionally, for 20 to 30 minutes, until the liquid has reduced to about 1 cup.
Keep your eye on the mixture while it cooks and lower the heat if necessary. You don't want it to caramelize and turn brown; you'd like it just to get nice and thick and syrupy.
When it's done, take it off the heat and allow it to cool. Then spoon this gorgeous liquid over the reserved fruit and cover it with plastic wrap until ready to serve.
I present these rather elegant pears at room temperature with nothing more than a plain store-bought ginger or almond cookie.
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Baked pear desserts abound this time of year. I like to use Anjous for this because their rich flavor and firm, crunchy texture still shine through.
Here I choose the very simplest Gale Gand recipe I return to again and again, in part for its ease but mostly for its flavor.
Pre-heat the oven to 400 F. Butter an 8-inch-square baking dish.
In a medium bowl combine 1¼ cups of flour, ½ cup of sugar, 2¼ teaspoons of baking powder, ½ teaspoon cinnamon, and ½ teaspoon salt.
In a small bowl, whisk 1 egg, ½ cup of milk, and ½ stick of melted, unsalted butter.
Core, then don't peel but cube, 2 Anjou pears.
Combine the egg mixture with the dry ingredients and add the pear. Mix well.
Pour into the baking dish.
Make the topping in a small bowl by cutting 3 tablespoons of cold butter into ½ cup of flour, 1 ¼ cup of sugar, and a pinch of cinnamon. When this mixture is pebbly and combined, sprinkle it on top of the batter.
Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until golden and dry on top. Cool in the pan and eat with your breakfast coffee on these glorious, bright fall mornings. The cake keeps very well.
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The best use of pears in a savory way is to stuff them with blue cheese and wrap them in prosciutto. The old Max's Restaurant in West Brattleboro, which I sorely miss, made a stellar version, which can still be enjoyed in a slightly abbreviated variation at Fireworks on Main Street.
I use Bartletts or Anjou for this recipe, which serves four.
Preheat the oven to 400 F. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil and set aside.
Halve lengthwise and core 2 pears. Trim a tiny piece from the round side so they can sit without wobbling. Squeeze some lemon over them so they don't brown.
Take about 3 ounces of blue cheese - which you could mix with a few tablespoons of crumbled walnuts and dried cranberries, if you wish - and divide it evenly, then stuff it into the cavity of the pears.
Lay out 4 slices of prosciutto of the counter, place ½ pear on top, and securely wrap one slice around each half.
Place on the baking sheet and roast for around 25 minutes, until the pear is soft and the prosciutto is crisp. Serve hot with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar and, if you wish, on a bed of vinaigrette-dressed arugula or something equally spicy.
Another great combination of sweet, salty, creamy, savory, crunchy, chewy food.
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I leave the best to last. The Comice pear has a lingering perfume, a fat, wide bottom, a short neck, and an extremely juicy flesh that is easily described as so creamy to be almost custardy.
The fine flavor of these pears is very sweet with mingled suggestions of honey and wine. They are best eaten fresh, unadorned, and slowly.
One pear on a plate. A sharp knife. That's it.
An old friend suggests eating them whole, standing naked in the bathtub, so the juice does not pose a problem.
Perhaps that is what Eve had in mind before she was distracted by that apple.