The Perils of Pears
Hearing birds outside the back of the house...at least they're not starlings or crows.They're going after the pear tree.
It was pretty cool to find that the tree whose branches dropped over the back corner of our fence was a pear tree. In fact, there was another, smaller pear tree in the back yard of the still-empty house behind us. Not only did the tree near the street-side corner turn out to be Hubby's very favorite variety of apples, but I had always wanted a pear tree, and we had permission to pick and use anything we wanted from any of the trees, since no one was yet living in this house behind us.
I went online and, to the best of my ability, figured out that these were probably a variety known as Seckel pears--coarse skinned, small, but very sweet. Knowing that you don't let pears ripen on the tree or they go mushy, we made a first picking when they seemed right and let them ripen. We had a nice warm summer, lots of sun, and these pears ripened up and were marvelous. They were very sweet, but I found that if I waited until they looked fully yellow they were turning brown inside; you had to catch them just right. They had the soft texture of an anjou, but more intense flavor. I made spiced pear butter, which was amazing, and pulled out my dehydrator for the rest.
So far, so good. I had my taste buds set for sweet, juice-dripping pears.
It was another two weeks before I could enlist Hubby with a ladder to pick what we could manage. This main tree is at least fifteen feet tall, and all the big fruit is up at the top, where there is full sun, and not down where we can get it. Frustration #1. The fence is not sturdy enough to unfold the ladder and extend it and lean it against so as to go up higher. Frustration #2, still looking at all the best fruit. It was still nicely sunny.
There wasn't room in the kitchen for the quantity involved, so while I was working on sorting through the contents of boxes in the kitchen, I kept checking on the pears. Which did absolutely nothing. Frustration #3. Nothing. Except for the ones going bad, they sat there doing their best imitation of green rocks.
I had a few sitting on the table, in front of the window blinds. Now, we don't mess with those blinds because they don't like to go back down and the wand to turn the slats is missing. That window also would leave the line of sight from the bus stop right through the dining room and into our bedroom door.
Here is what happened to those--they tried to become raisins, in a manner of speaking.
Still green, not soft, can't even cut them. A couple of them that did turn yellow as they shriveled went rotten as they did.
Meanwhile, I wanted to eat some, the way the first ones were. Biggest frustration! I wanted more of what I swooned over before, and they weren't cooperating..
So last week, after the pears had been brought inside in brown cardboard boxes, had a couple of bananas placed in them (suggestion of my daughter) to give off nice ethylene gas for a couple of days, one of my kind visiting teachers came over to help cut them up and do what we could. They still weren't really great for eating, not most of them. I spent another eight hours cooking them down and processing them as jam. (The last batch came out of the canner at ten minutes before midnight.) It's pretty good, but the flavor is not what the first ones were.
However, I got a good quantity: 17 half pints and a pint because I ran out of littler jars, and a bowlful cooked down without sugar to just eat. Here are the results--
(That's my IKEA cabinet that doesn't have a top yet, I have a large cutting board over one half, and the silverware is in the top drawer on the left...right now, we just reach in. It will have handles when our home teacher can come back, he put this together for us but ran out of time. It sits in the corner where the fridge was.)
Meanwhile, there are still pears to take care of. I'm going to salvage what I can tonight, and just cook them down to eat as pear sauce. It's worth the trouble to carve them up, it's free food and delicious when it's all done. There are still some on the trees, and they fall here and there on the ground. The birds just peck into them, but some end up like this--
I tried to get a shot that would show up the core. This is centered on its bottom, and the stem is gone--but the fruit is hollowed out, eaten down leaving the spike of the core, right down to the nub, but still standing upright in the center. I'm assuming this is the work of the squirrels, who are taking care of whatever they find. I'm trying to retrieve the undamaged windfalls and leaving the yucky ones for the fluffy-tailed disposal squad.
Next year, I'll know how to do this better. I won't panic that the fruit is going to pass its picking time, and I'll take smarter care of it. Maybe there won't be a hundred things going on...but, life being what it is, maybe there will. I will know better what to expect.
Life is an adventure, mistakes and frustrations notwithstanding. It's all about the learning process.
It was pretty cool to find that the tree whose branches dropped over the back corner of our fence was a pear tree. In fact, there was another, smaller pear tree in the back yard of the still-empty house behind us. Not only did the tree near the street-side corner turn out to be Hubby's very favorite variety of apples, but I had always wanted a pear tree, and we had permission to pick and use anything we wanted from any of the trees, since no one was yet living in this house behind us.
I went online and, to the best of my ability, figured out that these were probably a variety known as Seckel pears--coarse skinned, small, but very sweet. Knowing that you don't let pears ripen on the tree or they go mushy, we made a first picking when they seemed right and let them ripen. We had a nice warm summer, lots of sun, and these pears ripened up and were marvelous. They were very sweet, but I found that if I waited until they looked fully yellow they were turning brown inside; you had to catch them just right. They had the soft texture of an anjou, but more intense flavor. I made spiced pear butter, which was amazing, and pulled out my dehydrator for the rest.
So far, so good. I had my taste buds set for sweet, juice-dripping pears.
It was another two weeks before I could enlist Hubby with a ladder to pick what we could manage. This main tree is at least fifteen feet tall, and all the big fruit is up at the top, where there is full sun, and not down where we can get it. Frustration #1. The fence is not sturdy enough to unfold the ladder and extend it and lean it against so as to go up higher. Frustration #2, still looking at all the best fruit. It was still nicely sunny.
There wasn't room in the kitchen for the quantity involved, so while I was working on sorting through the contents of boxes in the kitchen, I kept checking on the pears. Which did absolutely nothing. Frustration #3. Nothing. Except for the ones going bad, they sat there doing their best imitation of green rocks.
I had a few sitting on the table, in front of the window blinds. Now, we don't mess with those blinds because they don't like to go back down and the wand to turn the slats is missing. That window also would leave the line of sight from the bus stop right through the dining room and into our bedroom door.
Here is what happened to those--they tried to become raisins, in a manner of speaking.
Meanwhile, I wanted to eat some, the way the first ones were. Biggest frustration! I wanted more of what I swooned over before, and they weren't cooperating..
So last week, after the pears had been brought inside in brown cardboard boxes, had a couple of bananas placed in them (suggestion of my daughter) to give off nice ethylene gas for a couple of days, one of my kind visiting teachers came over to help cut them up and do what we could. They still weren't really great for eating, not most of them. I spent another eight hours cooking them down and processing them as jam. (The last batch came out of the canner at ten minutes before midnight.) It's pretty good, but the flavor is not what the first ones were.
However, I got a good quantity: 17 half pints and a pint because I ran out of littler jars, and a bowlful cooked down without sugar to just eat. Here are the results--
 |
| Christmas presents! Spiced pear jam. |
(That's my IKEA cabinet that doesn't have a top yet, I have a large cutting board over one half, and the silverware is in the top drawer on the left...right now, we just reach in. It will have handles when our home teacher can come back, he put this together for us but ran out of time. It sits in the corner where the fridge was.)
 |
| Some of this is still food. |
Next year, I'll know how to do this better. I won't panic that the fruit is going to pass its picking time, and I'll take smarter care of it. Maybe there won't be a hundred things going on...but, life being what it is, maybe there will. I will know better what to expect.
Life is an adventure, mistakes and frustrations notwithstanding. It's all about the learning process.
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