Last spring Big Daddy and I bought some land out in the country that we call Le Rustique. Even though it's a little over a hundred acres that used to be part of a bigger family farm, I hesitate to call the place a farm since a good eighty percent of it is woods with a large variety of trees. One of those trees not too far from the house is a big old pear tree, and I've watched the fruit grow over the summer from something that looked like tiny crab apples to some pretty big speckled pears. Since my mom's no longer alive to consult, I had to do a little research myself. Come to find out, it's a Bosc pear tree - somewhat unusual for Missouri, and most often grown in Oregon and Washington.
Although I had no idea what to do with the bumper crop of pears from that one tree, I couldn't resist picking bags and boxes of them to share with city friends. Finally, when I ran out of friends, I decided to make a pear pie - only to discover that nobody's ever heard of a pear pie. But I figured if one could make an apple pie, why not a pear pie? Especially a Bosc pear pie, since the fruit is dense and crispy. And since we're not especially fond of sweet desserts, I decided to dream up my own version of a pear pie with onions and fresh-grated ginger. I made what I call my French Rustic Crust with white cheddar cheese, added my pears with minimal filling, and to make sure nobody expected to bite into a super sweet pie, I grated pepper on top of it. And voila! Pear Pie, oh my!
Someday when I run out of blog topics, I'll share some of my "Flour Hates Me" stories. But for now, I'm off to find some half-gallon jars so Big Daddy can create his own Pear Liqueur with some of the excess product.