The Giving Pear Tree & Me
When I was a tot, there was a special place I would go to like clockwork whenever autumn would arrive. There, sitting on the edge of our property, was a pear tree waiting morning after morning for me like the most reliable of companions. Its leaves began to give way to the season and break with the breeze, like linking chains being severed to count down till the days of winter. The jackets of the fruit reflected the season with pale shades of buttery green and deep hues of burgundy. Its skin, vulnerable and speckled, much like the freckles on my nose. Imperfect perfection.
But I was not the only member of the family that adored these little gems. The dirt around the base of the tree was littered with partially eaten fruit and the finger pointed to one direction, our Dalmatian, Penny. She was quite fond of pears as well. Playing fetch with pears and Penny was fruitless because she devoured the little autumnal nuggets and ne’er returned.
In these mornings, I beat her to the giving tree, but in a matter of moments, I could hear her panting and whining over the fact I had hoarded all of the ripened fruit. In my thickest Cajun accent I would yell, “Noooo Penny, these are myyyy pears!” She sat beside me quietly, licking my sticky fingers while sweet nectar dribbled from my chin. After my feast, I got up, patted the auburn leaves off my denim shorts and put my arm around the trunk of the tree as a farewell gesture, thanking it for the adoring autumn pear.
Recipe: Inspired by Minimally Invasive & Adapted from Smitten Kitchen
2 tablespoons of lemon juice
2 tablespoons of water
1 tablespoon of sugar
2 tablespoons of butter, cut into small pieces
Preheat oven to 3750
Cut pears in half lengthwise and core center. Place the pear halves cut side up onto a baking dish. Pour the lemon juice and water into the dish, sprinkle with sugar and dot the tops of the pears with butter. Place in the oven for 30 minutes. Flip the pears over and bake for another 30 minutes. You will know when they are ready whenever you can pierce the pear with a knife with no resistance.
2 cups of heavy whipping cream
1 teaspoon of vanilla
1 teaspoon of cinnamon, plus more for sprinkling
½ teaspoon of pumpkin pie spice
2 tablespoons of sugar
Combine all ingredients in a mixer fitted with a whisk attachment. Whisk all ingredients together until stiff peaks form. Transfer the cream to the fridge until ready to use.
1 teaspoon of cinnamon
2 tablespoons of honey
Place cream at the bottom of the serving dish. Place 1 pear half per person onto plate. Sprinkle with cinnamon and drizzle with honey.
Thank you, Amber… What a sweet childhood memory and a lovely recipe to go with it. And Penny must have been a special pet!
She was one of a kind! Thank you!
I’m so glad you enjoyed the recipe, Amber; I’ll have to give the spice mixture a try next time! And I’m cracking up imagining the Cajun accent you put on for Penny. (My dogs just cock their heads and look at me strangely when I try the same.)