pear, kale, and sorrel salad

Last week, I came into the small fortune of 20 perfect seckle pears.  Those pears were so beautiful, we almost missed their ripeness because we were so busy admiring them. The first one spouted a few tragic snowflakes of delicate mold, and then it became clear that we had 24 hours to eat the rest of them. We did it. We rose to the challenge, and at any given moment of that day (and into the night), there was a pear attached to someone's face. There was juice running down arms, and there were pears in everything. 

And so we found this happy combination, well-timed, I think, as we are waiting patiently for our first killing frost. Still, still waiting, and then the plants, and more importantly, the weeds, will wither and keel over, and the site of them will stop making me feel... well, I'll just come out and say it, like a failure.

I know that this is the second post in a row in which I've talked about failing my garden, and I know (or at least I'll go ahead and imagine) that you're saying, "lay off it, Alana! We're all there- we've all given up, the weeds have taken over!" Or, even, "garden! I don't even have a garden! Stop being so hard on yourself!" 

But those who have sat in my "garden" this summer while I try to distract them with cocktails know the truth. I never had a chance this year. My friend, Brandee said it best sometime in early July, as I hacked at the thistle in order to get at the mint for her pimm's cup. 

"Oh, honey. You need some help out here."

But there have been successes.  A proud number of green zebra tomatoes. 3 crimson lee peppers. Very happy jerusalem artichokes (always happy, of course).  Enough tomatillos for a damn fine bowl of salsa. 6 stalks of brussels sprouts that just might be ready by December.  And 4 vigorous kale plants that only have more sweetness ahead of them when the frost comes.

Hooray for kale. It makes me feel like a winner in every way.

Pear, Kale, and Sorrel Salad

1 small bunch curly kale
2 seckel pears (or 1 larger pear)
6 leaves sorrel (You can, of course, leave these out if you don't have them, but they add a delicious tang to the whole dish)
juice of 1 lemon
2 T olive oil
1/4 cup toasted almonds, roughly chopped
peeled parmesan
salt and pepper

Tear the kale off the stem, and chop it finely. Do the same with the sorrel. Cut the pear into 1/2-inch slices and toss with the greens.  Squeeze a lemon directly over the whole thing. Then spoon the olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and toss to combine. Finish off with the toasted almonds and parmesan.  This will serve 4 as a side dish, or you alone if you bring it out to the back yard to watch the sun set as you reflect on the beauty of things. 

pear and cheese

I'm not cooking today.
I've been thinking about damp gingerbread with pears all week, thinking that that would be the dish I brought to fall fest. I made it last year just about this time, but some things just bear talking about twice, don't you think?

All week, I keep coming across the most beautiful pears. At the store and the farmer's market. On the counter and windowsill of every house. Curved like the shape of a woman who enjoys life. In fact, I don't think I saw one ugly pear.


The other day, I got to can with the ladies. It was an applesauce day, and we couldn't keep it simple no matter how much we tried. Saffron applesauce, mint applesauce, plum applesauce, grape applesauce. My shelf is a testament to the ever possible adaptability of applesauce. Golden, fuschia, purple. And there were pears, a dainty 1/2 bushel. We turned them all into juice, melded in the steam juicer with ginger. Ginger pear juice.

All but one. The last pear we sliced thin. Naomi had brought the most exquisite tiny and precious wedge of aged gouda, the kind with a bit of crunch to it. We sat in the midst of our many hued applesauces, and we ate that snack like queens.

Every time I eat a pear with cheese, I think,
"How did I forget that this is the most wonderful thing?"

Although I didn't get my oven going, my fall fest compatriots managed to give me some fabulous ideas as to what to do when I get around to it. Oh, lovely pear, you are a lucky one this week.


Caroline at the Wright Recipes: Three Favorite Pear Recipes

Caron at San Diego Foodstuff: Pear, Pecan, Parmesan Scones

Paige at The Sister Project: A Gingery Pear Crisp

Nicole at Pinch My Salt: Sour Cream Pear Cake/

Todd and Diane at White on Rice Couple: Making Pear Galette

Gilded Fork: Harvest Risotto with Caramelized Pears

Margaret at A Way to Garden: Of Pears and Cookbooks, a Delicious Giveaway

Roberto at Food2: 5 Ways to Warm Up to Pears

Michelle at Cooking Channel: What to Pair With Pears

Kirsten at Food Network: Baking Up Pear Desserts

Liz at Healthy Eats: Vanilla Poached Pears, With Variations

And you? How are you paying tribute to the pear this week?