Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
LATIN NAME
Pyrus communis
SEASONALITY
August–November. Cooking pears: January–February
MORE RECIPES
Bay-spiked pears with shallots and lemon; Partridges roasted with quince and bacon; Pears with ricotta, honey and thyme; Upside-down chocolate plum pudding; Pear and bilberry crumble tart; Cranberry and pear sauce
SOURCING
brogdalecollections.org (home to the national fruit collection); orangepippintrees.co.uk
A good, ripe pear, so ambrosial in the mouth – juicy yet curiously granular, with its complex floral flavours – is a thing of beauty. So, if you catch one at that point of perfect, fragrant ripeness, just sit down and eat it right away, letting its perfumed liquor trickle down your chin. However, I’d be the first to admit that waylaying a pear at that point of exquisite readiness isn’t straightforward. Pears can be hard and crunchy one moment, mushily soft and boozily over-ripe the next.
Pears are nearly always picked when under-ripe because they actually taste better if allowed to ripen off the tree. Even if you grow your own, you should pick them when firm and ripen them indoors. The problem is, because under-ripe pears are easier to transport, some commercial crops are picked much too early, when still immature and green, and refrigerated for way too long. They’ll never ripen properly and instead go from crisp to pulpy without ever having their magic moment.
Most of the pears sold in the UK are of the long, brown-freckled ‘Conference’ variety (pictured next, back row). They’re relatively easy to grow, store and transport, and growers say they are what we, the buying public, prefer, choosing them nine times out of ten. This is a shame because, while there’s nothing wrong with a Conference, it’s not the most exciting pear to be had. It’s also, sadly, quite likely to be imported.
Many of our pear orchards are old and not particularly productive, requiring the kind of renaissance that cherry orchards have undergone (see Cherries) if we are to compete with our European neighbours. But the investment required is substantial and growers won’t commit to it unless they’re sure we’re going to buy their pears. This is why, currently, even in the peak pear months of autumn, supermarket shelves feature so many easy-travelling, high-cropping foreign pears.
So how do you guarantee a perfect pear-eating experience? If you live in the South, start by going to an orchard or farm shop. The smaller the distance pears have had to go to get to the point of sale, the better. Not much pear-growing goes on north of Birmingham so slightly more travelled fruit will be the norm here, but you can still explore different varieties (see below).
Buy pears that are firm, but not rock hard. Don’t worry about a little russeting on the skin (more likely with a British pear because it’s caused by wind and rain); it won’t affect flavour. When you get your pears home, leave them to ripen at cool room temperature. There’s nowhere better than the proverbial sunny windowsill, as light accelerates ripening. Mount a daily vigil, giving the fruit the merest squeeze morning and evening until you feel a gentle ‘give’ and detect a slight, peary fragrance. At this point the pear is perfectly ripe and ready to eat.
While a pear at the peak of ripeness is really what you want if you’re eating it just as it comes, there’s lots you can do with a pear that’s a little under- or over-ready. Pears are magnificent cooking fruits and, actually, those that are a few days shy of spot-on tenderness will give the best results – taking the heat and softening gently while absorbing the flavours of whatever you cook them with. Almost-ripe pears are the ones to slice and fry in butter, with a squeeze of lemon and a trickle of honey, or to arrange in a fluted wheel inside a tart case or on a cake. These are the fruits to peel then poach whole in wine or apple juice with citrus zest and spices, or to bake – their cores scooped out and filled with chopped nuts and dried fruit.
Pears in this nearly-there state are also very good served raw in a salad, particularly a savoury one. They always pair well with something salty and something nutty: pears with ham and walnuts; pears with blue cheese and hazelnuts; pears with smoked mackerel and brown toast – just add a slightly lemony, mustardy dressing.
Should you come home one evening to discover your patiently waited-for pears have rushed ahead of you and become a little too soft, don’t despair. Purée their melting flesh into a smoothie or use it as the base for a sorbet.
And if, despite all your pear-spicacity, pear perfection has eluded you, you can always console yourself with dried pears. These are increasingly easy to buy and lovely to eat. Chop them and add to cakes, couscous or stuffings (try them instead of fresh pears in the recipe below) – or just chew your way lazily through a handful, savouring every succulent, toffeeish morsel. You can’t say pear-er than that.
FAVOURITE PEAR VARIETIES
Williams’ Bon Chrétien Often just called Williams, this is a juicy, well-flavoured early variety, good in September. (Pictured next, front row.)
Beth A more unusual early variety – small, sweet, juicy and quite delicious.
Onward Related to the delectable Comice, this is plump, silky and buttery. Look for it in late September/early October.
Doyenne du Comice Often just called Comice, this is one of the most luscious of all pear varieties. Seek it out from early October and try to eat at least one raw and perfectly ripe: pear perfection.
Beurre Hardy As the name suggests, this variety is buttery and delicious – with a hint of rose fragrance. Picked in September, it’s good for eating in October.
Louise Bonne of Jersey This is a lovely, tender red-flushed pear, full of fragrant flavour, good in October.
Concorde A cross between Comice and Conference, from which it inherits a longish shape, this is a reliably good late-season pear. It is available from early October.
Catillac One of the old-fashioned, late-season cooking pears, this variety can be found in orchards and farmers’ markets in January and February.
This is perfect with the Christmas goose or turkey. Ideally, for the sausagemeat, use coarsely ground free-range pork shoulder. Serves 6–8
2–3 tbsp goose fat, or olive or rapeseed oil
1 large onion, chopped
½ small celeriac, peeled
100g blanched almonds or cooked chestnuts
Finely grated zest and juice of 1 lemon
3 slightly under-ripe medium pears
500g sausagemeat
1 goose or turkey liver, or 80g chicken livers, finely chopped
A handful of fresh white breadcrumbs
1 tbsp chopped sage
1 tsp chopped thyme
A pinch of ground mace
Sea salt and black pepper
Heat the goose fat or oil in a large frying pan over a medium-low heat, add the onion and cook gently for about 10 minutes, until soft and translucent. Meanwhile, cut the celeriac into 1cm cubes. Add the celeriac to the pan and cook for another 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Leave to cool.
In the meantime, finely chop the almonds or crumble the cooked chestnuts; set aside.
Put the lemon juice into a large bowl. Peel, quarter and core the pears, then dice the fruit directly into the bowl, tossing it in the juice to stop it discolouring.
Add the lemon zest, sausagemeat, liver, breadcrumbs, herbs and mace, and mix together thoroughly. Add the nuts and the cooked onion and celeriac, and mix again, to combine. Season with some salt and pepper.
You can stuff this mixture under the neck skin of a chicken, turkey or goose, and also put a little inside the cavity of the bird, but don’t pack it full because the stuffing will expand and may not cook through properly. Remember to include the weight of the stuffing when calculating the cooking time of your bird.
The stuffing can also be baked in a shallow, buttered dish at 190°C/Fan 170°C/Gas 5 for 35–45 minutes, depending on thickness, or until cooked through.
