Fruit is fabulous. It’s nature’s dessert- it’s sweet, it’s succulent, it’s juicy, and the flavors are bold, exciting, and unique. Yet for some reason I shy away from some of the most basic varieties.
Like pears. I like pears- out of a can. I walk by the pile of pears in the grocery store bins, hesitate for a minute, then keep walking. There are less than half the choices of kinds of pears than there are apples, yet I continually pass them by, not knowing what type of pear would be good to bite into.
I finally figured enough was enough. I’d grab a couple pears, taste them, and then I’d forever know if I was an Anjou or a Bosc or a Bartlett fan.
But the night I brought my selection of pears home was the one chilly night we’ve had so far, and because I had 3,495 other things to do that night, I thought it’d be a great time to experiment with poached pears.
Not a bad decision- a poached pear is like a baked apple- a delicious fruit made even better served warm and juicy.
So the verdict in the battle of the Bosc vs the Anjou. The Bosc was the clear winner from the first bites; the husband and I agreed. I’m a save-the-best-for last person, so I ate the Anjou pear first. When I returned to the Bosc pear, I decided the Anjou was the winner. The husband stuck to his guns with the Bosc.
So the moral of the story is, don’t be scared of pears. They just taste good.