My dad used to tell me, One of these mornings, Pickle, you’re going to wake up a pear.
Yes, he called me “pickle.” I’m still not sure where that came from. But I loved pears (still do). I would even happily drink the juice leftover from a can of pears, if my parents would let me. The fruit became a little strange after I ate too many of the pear-flavored Jelly Bellies – at some point, I could no longer say whether the jelly bean tasted uncannily like the fruit or whether it was the other way around. But gradually, I began to discover other types of pears than Bartlett. Bosc is a great variety, and Anjou is more of a standard fare for me now.
Well, I have just had the most delicious pear of my life. I kid not. A variety I’ve not tried before was on sale this week, so I decided to give it a shot. It has a brown skin, like Bosc or Asian, but of course was neither of those. The first bite, compared to an Anjou, was like wine to grape juice. Good wine, too, like a New Zealand Sauv.
And I can’t remember the name! I must go back and look for it. And probably buy a couple more.