Different Varieties

Pears make an easy snack (which unfortunately bruise easily in a pocket) that the author of the blog Painfully Enamored with Food states that they take "...nearly zero effort to consume. Because they were appropriately ripe, I really just had to kind of hold them in front of my face, and wait for them to naturally absorb. Yeah, I ate them, but it took virtually no effort at all."

I'm going to admit that I've eaten at least one pear every day for the past several months, and I can't tell whether or not my stomach appreciates this. Ancient medical texts written by Pliny the Elder or the 16th century physician Gerad might warn me to avoid raw pears and instead "boil them with honey" to avoid "binding the stomach" (i.e. cause constipation).

In reality, pears cause the opposite effect on the digestive system, due to the high amounts of insoluble fiber present in the pulp. The average sized pear is around 100 calories per serving- a package of readily available carbohydrates, vitamin C, and up to 6 grams of fiber (depending on your size and gender, represents about 25% of our daily fiber reccomendations). Another neat fact about the pear is that it is one of the least allergenic fruits, and are recommended to people with severe food allergies.



Bartlett

As the #1 variety found in grocery stores in the United States, most people have probably eaten Bartletts at least once before. Originally a wildling found in England, the trees themselves became widespread as people saw how adaptible they are to different climates and soils. Overseas, they are called by their traditional name, William's Bon Chretien.

Juicy and fine grained, the flat, one-dimensional sweetness lends it's flavor to be described as "good, not best quality", which seems to be overlooked as the oblong-obtuse pyriform shaped fruits are encased in a thin, attractive bright yellow-green skin that doesn't get stuck in your teeth. They look very tidy in the grocery store, as the fruits are reliably large and uniform in size. Besides fresh eating, they are also frequently canned (think Dole sliced pears).  



Bosc

  

I'm going to let my bias come through in this description. The Beurre Bosc (beurre, which means "butter" in French) is one of the most flavorful and elegant pears to cook with. They are one of the few widely available varieties in grocery stores all over the world. Their distinctive russet colored skin and elongated, true pyriform shape lends cooks to leave them whole for poaching or baking. The flesh holds together well when cooked, being very fine grained and surprisingly crisp even when fully ripe, with floral and spicy notes of cinnamon and nutmeg.  

Magness

A Comice and Seckel hybrid that captures some of the incredible sweetness of the Seckel and delivers it in a larger sized fruit. The bright green skin is a bit thicker than average, but not tough. Palm sized, it has a semi-firm texture that makes a good snack for transport since it doesn't drip all over your face and hands when you eat it. 



Flemish Beauty

I've eaten quite of few of these lately, and they taste like summer. They're very handsome fruits, too, ripening into a gentle yellow color with light patches of pink and red. There's something almost tropical in its sweetness, reminiscent of guavas and papaya with a hint of flowers that you catch when you breathe in while taking a bite. The flesh, when perfectly ripe, melts away in your mouth like custard. Another favorite of mine.   

Seckel

Also known as the "sugar pear", the Seckel is a rather unique and novel American variety that originated in the back yard of a man named Mr. Seckle. The small, egg shaped fruit often has a dark rosy blush and smattering of light freckles. The texture of the flesh is firm and crisp, and is by far the sweetest variety I've come across. It is sweet in the way that honey is sweet, which does not cloy on the tongue. The only downside is that the small size means that one cannot expect a single fruit to satisfy their appetite. Settling to satisfy a sweet tooth, however, is an option. 

*Disclaimer: I am not paid by the Northwestern Pear Bureau to exalt the pear, in case anyone was wondering. Maybe they should be paying me...

Resources:

1) LindseyinSeattle. "Pears Are Better Than Apples." Web log post. Painfully Enamored with Food. Blogspot, 7 May 2013. Web. 8 Nov. 2013. http://painfullyenamoredwithfood.blogspot.com/2013/05/pears-are-better-than-apples.html. 

2) Hedrick, U. P., and G. H. Howe. "The Pears of New York". Albany: J.B. Lyon Co. printers, 1921. Print.

Handcarved Pearwood Spoon

Securing the green pear log in place to make a 16" section cut to accomodate a 12" long spoon

I read an article that was originally published in British Woodworking Magazine about pear wood, which described it as being one of the finest timbers to use for delicate carving. It is typically used for small projects like cabinets and boxes since it is expensive and rare to come by. The wood itself comes in shades of rosy browns, with no noticeable grain that is "well behaved" and gives way to "silky shavings".

Back in the very beginning of September this year, a fierce wind storm took a toll on the Sterling pear tree, leaving a gaping hole in the crown of the tree where one of the main trunk branches and one or two other larger limbs were torn down. As soon as I'd heard about the damage I went out to collect the fallen fruit and stashed two 50 lb. logs in a safe place where I hoped no one would carry them off to get chipped for mulch or chuck them into the burn pile.

My intent is to further bridge my connection with this tree, to make something practical and useful outside of the delicious food and artwork that I've been pursuing. I'd read in an article by My original plan was to make chopsticks, but when I approached my friend, Ethan, who is a great woodworker, about learning how to use the handtools, he said, "No, you should make a spoon. Chopsticks are too easy."

He proceeded to show me how to select the straightest piece of the branch, smooth out the log with a hatchet, trace out the shape of the spoon, and begin gouging out the outline. I decided to go for a 12" spoon with a somewhat wide scoop to it, which I pictured using to stir pans of sauteing pears or serve grainy salads with.

Seeing as the semester has already ended, I haven't yet had time to go back and finish it, but it's patiently waiting for me out in the snowbank where it will hopefully not dry out and crack (Gospel according to Ethan H.).

Still Life, Pt. 2

The more I look at the tubes of Alizarin Crimson and Sap Green, the more I realize that this project might come out more abstract than I originally imagined! The colors tempt me. I'm not going to fight it. When I close my eyes and think about what comes next, I see glimpses of purple in the shadows and the merest hint of pure red accentuating the highlighted curve of the pear with the elongated neck in the front. The direction this painting is taking is one that I feel I'm not consciously in charge of, that my next moves are based off of knowing what to do, and not so much deciding.

 

I was feeling a small amount of regret for going so heavy with the Lamp Black at the start of the painting, but I'm slowly beginning to understand the forgiving nature of oil paints. It's easy to get carried away and apply to much too quickly! Their only requirement for me is that I hold my patience long enough for the latest layer to dry- which is suprisingly more bearable than I anticipated, as I can clean up and walk away for a good 24 hours before coming back.    

 



Intensifying the blue of the table, and making a bold decision
to fill the empty white space with (what will become) a patterned rug.
I love the contrast of the opposite colors, Cobalt Blue and Yellow Ochre.



Still Life, pt. 1

Four beautiful Bosc pears, afternoon light from a south facing window; this one picture is one of about fifty I took in order to find the right combination of the natural and unstructured with hints of order. My process? Gathering the pears up in my arms, setting them on a surface, and rearranging one or two to suit my aesthetic goal. I can't believe there are food photographers out there that consume their entire careers doing such things...

Blank 16" x 20" canvas, and photo for reference.
I decided not to try and copy the photograph, but to use it as guidance for shading and and highlights.

 

Old oil paints, courtesy of my mother, who is an artist if all different kinds.
I've had experience with acrylic and watercolor,
but it's been a while since I last set out to intentionally make a piece of art.
This is my first time using oils!

 

Quick sketch...



Defining the focal points with Lamp Black, establishing shading and highlights...
Getting used to how the medium spreads over the canvas.

Laying out the background, having fun with paint thinner and Cobalt Blue on the table... maybe I'll fill in the empty white space with a patterened rug for added interest. Getting ideas about how I want to build the colors on the pears- aiming for realism with a touch of unexpected and subtle color in the shadows, like... purple, orange.

Torte di Pere (Bittersweet Chocolate and Pear Cake)

The Bosc pears I'd bought ripened just in time to get incorporated into a dessert to bring to the Jack and Jill party for my friends, Erica and Rob, who were a week away from getting married. I'd come across this Italian recipe on the blog Smitten Kitchen, a simple cake batter leavened mostly with eggs, spruced up with the addition of browned butter and studded with chunks of chocolate and pear. It sounded a little exotic.

The recipe goes as follows..

1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 eggs, room temperature
1 stick unsalted butter
3/4 cup sugar
3 pears, peeled, diced small
3/4 cup bittersweet chocolate chunks (I found a chocolate bar at the coop with crystallized ginger... seemed like a reasonable improvisation)

Directions are simple. Preheat oven to 350F, butter and dust cake pan with flour or breadcrumbs. Melt butter and brown over medium heat, stirring frequently to keep the milk solids from sticking. Beat egg yolks and whites together until pale, thick, and shiny, adding the sugar in small amounts.

 Gently fold in the dry ingredients with the brown butter until just combined (careful not to loose volume), distribute into pan. Sprinkle chocolate and pear bits over the batter, bake for 40 - 50 minutes until golden brown and springy to the touch.  


So... I wasn't sure how I'd be able to carry out the recipe without a reliable electric mixer, since I had to set up shop in one of the lower dorm kitchens. Heck, I'd be lucky if there was even a mixing bowl... I imagined having to spend the entire morning hand beating the eggs until my arm fell off. I was prepared to do it, but at the last minute went into the kitchen in the dining hall and Paul, baker extraordinaire, lent me an ancient electric hand mixer that his mother used growing up. Looking through the cupboard in two dorms, I found spatulas and bowls, but no cake pan... but there were plenty of muffin pans.

The Torte di Pere would become Piccolo Tortes di Pere! (not sure if my Italian grammar is correct there...)

It went smoothly- I didn't feel like I had to keep rechecking the recipe to make sure I was getting the proper results at each stage, and get the feeling that unfussy, straightforward recipes like this were the invention of grandmothers and mothers who could make these cakes with a baby balanced on their hip and an eye on the kid running around the house. I think I could probably make this again without looking at the recipe!

The batter rose up and enveloped the chocolate and pear chunks as they baked in the oven, producing these adorable, irregular minicakes that were just sweet enough to nibble on with lightly unsweetened whipped cream. The Bosc pears held up well, just as I'd read- honey sweet and just barely holding onto their characteristic crispness, all which was well moderated the bittersweet chocolate. A beautiful addition to my fall and winter dessert repertoire... 

 

Resources:
Deb. "Bittersweet Chocolate and Pear Cake." Web log post. The Smitten Kitchen. Martha Stewart's Circle Network, 22 Jan. 2009. Web. 9 Nov. 2013. http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2009/01/bittersweet-chocolate-and-pear-cake/.

 

Savory Pear and Stilton Tart

It feels good to have a reason to bake and cook again. Being in school and having all my meals prepared for me (no matter how wonderful and nutritious they are) robs me of one of my creative outlets and ways of expressing my affection to other people.  



Just out of the oven, cheese still bubbling...

This first recipe was improvisioned off of a mushroom and goat cheese tart that I remembered seeing once in my Betty Crocker cookbook. I was thinking about how an important part of culinary education requires a little confidence to experiement and substitute ingredients, switching apples for pears, goat cheese for Stilton... how that principle could apply to increasing the public's acceptance of different varieties of produce and working towards a more colorful diet.

This is a very simple example. I was rushing around Montpelier doing errands, and had only an hour and a half to get ready for a potluck gathering. I'd just spent $15 on several pounds of Scott Farm pears that were all in various stages of ripeness, and the little Bartletts were the ripest and most likely to get bruised on the ride home.

 

Recipe Approximations:

1/4 package of phyllo dough, ideally fully thawed!

1 stick metled butter- 1 tbsp. for the pan, the rest for dough

1 onion, thinly sliced and carmelized in 1 tbsp. olive  oil and 1 tbsp. butter

8 ounces Stilton

4 medium sized pears of your choice (I used Bartlett since they were the ripest ones I bought)

I grabbed a hunk of blue, veiny Stilton cheese and some frozen phyllo dough and hoped that the car was warm enough to thaw it out driving between Montpelier and Barre. Making my own crust would have been preferrable, as I am not a huge fan of "semi-homemade" cooking, but I don't mind taking shortcuts every once in a while. This was for homework, after all...

 

I threw the onions into a pan and watched them slowly transform into a deep mahogany brown mush out of the corner of my eye while I was sliced the four small Bartletts into neat segments. It didn't look like it would be enough to cover the tart, so I volunteered one of the larger, slightly under ripe Magness pear.  



 

The dough had only partially thawed, so by the time I had a baking sheet buttered up and the oven preheated, I knew that it was going to be a bit of a mess pulling the tissue paper-thin layers of dough out of the packaging. They came off in irregular geometric pieces and I did my best to smear melted butter between them with a paper towel brush (I'd also realized that my home kitchen does not have a pastry brush).

The carmelized onions went down first, spread thinly over the dough. I arranged the slices of pears over the top in neat columns, and scattered the crumbled Stilton over the top. Thirty minutes later... 



Someone's fingers got in the picture...tsk!







They were well received, easy finger appetizers that people weren't afraid to take at the potluck. Funny how the dishes that require someone to dare to make the first cut or scoop get a little neglected (maybe there's a self consciousness about eating in public?). I was satisfied with the constrat of the sharp, salty contrast of the Stilton with the sweetness of the pear.  





 

 

The Pear as a Symbol

"The purpose of art is expression. Expression is a process of sending ideas. Art is any recorded experience that draws us back to it, holds us there, grows inside us, becomes part of us..."
-C.W. Fisher, from the blog The Purpose of Art



Pear by fjuk, a rather sexy use of the fruit



To better understand the kind of relationship human culture has with the pear, I thought that I would begin my journey by reading into the non-culinary or agricultural purposes it serves us. As described in the above quote, art has often been used to get snapshots of human culture, where the prominent pieces of an era are captured in something as simple as a still life painting of a bowl of grapes next to the dead pheasant. In The Pear in History paper from Purdue University, Janick describes how the pear has appeared in literature and art as early as the 9th century BC, mentioned in Homer's famous epic, The Odyssey.

The four trees of Paradise, 6th century mosaic from Jordan (pear in top right corner) 

Pear, pere, poire, peer, paere, paron, pera, pirne, apios, li, nashi... each culture that has admired and used the pear as a food crop not only has their own word for it, but also attached their own symbolism. In general, fruits are attributed to the Greek god Dionysus in Western culture, known for his delight in all earthly pleasures- food, alcohol, and sex. The pear is a particularly erotic example,  echoing the shape of women. Christianity certainly reinforces this association with the temptation in the Garden of Eden, which is traditionally associated with the apple, though the snake could have very well offered a pear, fig, or pomegranite... oddly enough, the pear is also connected with Christ's unbiased love for humanity.


Basket of Pears, mosaic in Museum of El Djem in
The House of Africa in Tunisia, North Africa

Asian cultures particularly hold the pear tree in high regard, connecting themes of innocence, longevity, grace, and nobility. The heart shaped white blossoms are thought to be symbolic of a young woman's beauty and purity, but also of transience and sad departure as the petals come and go in such a short time. The Chinese word for pear, li, is also the same word for seperation, so it is not advisable for friends or lovers to share halves of a pear for fear of being seperated...

Whether this is true, I tend to insist that a friend have their own pear instead of sharing one together.






Resources:

Fisher, C.W. "The Purpose of Art." BC: Blog Critics. Blog Critics Magazine, 05 14 2004. Web. 3 Oct. 2013. http://blogcritics.org/the-purpose-of-art/.

Fjuk. Pear. 2006. Array. Deviant ArtWeb. 29 Oct 2013.