We are going on our second year in the antique rental house. And I can feel the familiar calling of fall now that the hard little pears are starting to fall to the ground with a distinctive thud. I wish I knew what kind of pears they are or what to do with them. We have two trees of the same mysterious variety. They get to be slightly smaller than a baseball and stay rock hard throughout the growing season.
Last year I left a number of them on the counter for weeks at a time and they just got harder, not softer. It doesn’t matter if I pick them off the tree or wait until they fall; they are impenetrable to both tooth and knife. Most of them take on the physical characteristics of a potato with weird knobs and divots rather than the classic pear shape (though the photo does not show this) so I’m wondering if I could make some sort of pear liquor from them.
What is new this year – at least to me – is the abundance of wild Concord grapes in our yard. I figured there had to be some once I was aware of the tell-tale vine, but couldn’t see them. I thought they would be at eye level. It turned out I wasn’t looking high enough. Walking the dog the other day I became aware of an overpowering smell of grape jelly. Upon further examination it turned out the tops of the trees were covered in vines and with bunches and bunches of wild grapes.
I’m still not sure how to get most of them, but Ben managed to wrangle one small bunch. I think they are too sweet to eat, but if we could find a way to get the rest of them I would like to try to make jam.
Another indicator that it’s almost fall? I suddenly want to bake and can things.