In Season: Bartlet pears a late summer treat

It’s Bartlett pear season, and time to ripen those fruits off the tree - otherwise they become mushy.|

Over the past 30 years or so, much has changed regarding Sonoma County’s August delights: Gravenstein apples and Bartlett pears.

Most of the county’s Gravenstein orchards have been converted to vineyards, and much of the Bartlett pear industry has moved north to Mendocino County and beyond.

What hasn’t changed is the quality of these fruits. Gravs are still just as delicious and early as ever, and Bartletts are unsurpassed - if you know their secret.

When I moved to Sebastopol, my 1-acre property contained the remnants of a Bartlett pear orchard. “Oh boy,” I thought (not knowing that Bartletts have a secret), “tree-ripened pears!”

But when I let the Bartletts turn a ripe yellow on the tree, they were always mushy textured, brown inside, and no fun to eat. I subsequently learned that if Bartletts - and most European pears - are left on the tree to ripen, their enzymes begin dissolving the pectin in their cell walls, turning them brown and mushy.

They must be picked green, about three weeks before they ripen, and placed in a cool, shady room with plenty of air circulation around each fruit.

Then they slowly turn a fetching yellow or red depending on the cultivar, their flesh becomes melting, sweet, juicy, and musky, and they reach a fleeting moment of perfection.

It doesn’t last long because the enzymes begin their work as soon as the fruit colors up. Within a day of perfection they start to mush up.

So, if you’re buying Bartletts at the market or farm stand, buy them green and hard, and ripen them at home.

Don’t place them in a plastic bag or in the fridge, or they begin to “breathe” internally, causing the appearance of brown spots under the skin and a brown core.

They need fresh air circulation. Place a few layers of newspapers on a cool floor and place the pears on them so none touch each other. Then they ripen fine.

You can tell when they’re ripe by feeling some “give” when you exert gentle thumb pressure on the top of the neck where the stem protrudes.

If you have just a few, they will ripen nicely on the windowsill as long as it’s not sunny.

While Bartletts are exquisite pears, other varieties offer charms, too. Comice pears are plump, squat, lop-sided and larger than Bartletts.

They’re less musky and without question have the most silky, melting texture of any pear. Plus they have very few sclerenchyma cells in their flesh.

These are the gritty little stone cells that many other varieties of pears display so noticeably in their texture.

While these cells detract from a pear’s melting texture, they are the source of a pear’s healthful fiber, which includes pectin, gums, cellulose, hemicellulose and lignins.

Besides fiber, pears have about 5 milligrams of vitamin C per 3 ounces of fruit and 150 milligrams of potassium per three ounces of pear, about a third of what a banana offers, but still a good amount of this mineral that keeps leg cramps away.

Pears originated in the same region as apples - the great swath of land that runs from the Caucasus Mountains in the west to the Chinese border in the east.

There are 20 known wild species, but many - estimates run from 1,000 to 5,000 - cultivated varieties. Only about 20 varieties are of major importance in commerce, however.

One of these, the White Doyenne, appears to be a variety known in ancient Rome and described in writing and in wall paintings.

Our modern pear varieties came into being because of a great deal of breeding work done in France from the 16th through the 18th centuries, especially in the area around Angers in the Loire Valley.

Anjou and Duchesse d’Angouleme are two popular varieties developed there in those years. In the 19th century, Belgium became the center of pear breeding, and the so-called “butter pears,” including Bosc, came from that country.

Bartlett originated in England around 1770. Comice was bred in Angers in the 19th century, and Clapp’s Favorite was bred in Massachusetts in the mid-19th century.

The Seckel pear was a single tree found growing in northern Delaware in pre-revolutionary days, probably a cross between a European and Asian pear that volunteered in the wild.

It’s a small but very sweet pear that quickly spread throughout the Northeast.

Pears are best eaten out of hand, but varieties like Anjou and Comice also bake well in galettes and tarts, while Seckel and Bosc - firmer pears - are best for poaching and for putting up as spiced pears. In addition, pears show a great affinity for a wide range of flavors, including almonds, anise, brandy, chocolate, cloves, cinnamon, figs, honey, ginger, quince, Parmesan cheese, vanilla, and red wines, especially pinot noir and Beaujolais.

Japanese Asian pears are somewhere between an apple and a pear in flavor, with a crisp, even crunchy texture and a faint sweetness that makes them excellent in salads.

They’re shaped like apples, crisp, with crunchy white to yellowish-white flesh, grainy, juicy, mildly sweet, best eaten cold as thin slices perhaps splashed with a little lime juice.

It ripens on the tree - like apples. Early varieties of Asian pears were so full of sclerenchyma cells they were known as sand pears, but today’s modern varieties have fewer such cells.

hhhhhh

This low-cal dessert has very little fat, although it looks like it has a lot.

It’s a scrumptious and visually appealing way to end a dinner for friends.

Poached Pears with Creamy Sauce

Makes 4 servings

For the pears:

1 cup pinot noir

3 tablespoons red currant jelly

1/4 cup orange-tangerine juice

1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 cinnamon stick

1 tablespoon honey

1 teaspoon lemon zest

4 pears (Bosc would be good), peeled, halved, and cored

For the sauce:

1/2 cup nonfat organic yogurt

1/4 cup soft tofu

2 tablespoons honey

2 teaspoons lemon zest

- Fresh sliced strawberries

- Mint sprigs

Combine the wine, jelly, orange-tangerine juice, lemon juice, cinnamon stick, honey and one teaspoon of lemon zest in a saucepan.

Bring to a boil. Add the pear halves and bring back to a boil.

Reduce heat and simmer until the pears are tender, about five to seven minutes. Let the pears cool in the poaching liquid then refrigerate until cold.

Place the yogurt, tofu, honey and two teaspoons of lemon zest in the blender and whiz until smooth. Spoon into a bowl and chill it in the fridge. Drain and blot the pear halves dry.

Make many thin slices on the pear halves from blossom end to neck end, rather than across the body of the pear, starting at the wide part extending about three quarters of the way toward the neck end, but don’t cut all the way.

Use your palm to press on the halves, which should fan out. At all costs, don’t mash the pears.

Using a spatula, transfer two of the halves to each of four salad plates, with the cored side up. Spoon the sauce around the halves and garnish the top with the strawberries and a sprig of mint.

Jeff Cox is a Kenwood-based food and garden writer. Reach him at jeffcox@sonic.net

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