27th October-Drying Pears

Creeping Dawn

When every day is spent in the same environment, subtle changes go unnoticed as events but it is these daily discrepancies which turn winter to summer, summer to winter. The chestnut which was sealed shut yesterday reveals a glimpse of burnished brown nut today, the bunch of rowan berries which, already picked over by blackbirds, falls to the ground. After an extraordinary dawn of lurid mauve creeping over the tree line, the first true light revealed what a change three days have made. Waning days have defied the uniformity of summer replacing the even tapestry of woodland beyond the ridge with a patchwork quilt. Larch, chestnut, birch and oak whose boughs I have often walked between, standing out with subtle difference in tone and texture from their neighbours. Immediately before me the hedge, which would more accurately be described as a thin strip of wood, was far from subtle. The tall ash with its swollen twisted bowl stood all but bare whilst besides it bird cherry dashed the golden field maple with sprays of flame red leaves.

The germination of seeds is a glaring exception to the rule above, for me at least. Every day I search for infinitesimal change in the carefully prepared seedbeds and in spring every morning starts with a ' garden tour ' to see what new plants have emerged. Watching spinach pushing up in the greenhouse at the end of October is a curious thing and if it continues to grow, eating it at Christmas will be even stranger.

In our absence the first of the stored comice pears have ripened to a light straw colour. Inevitably the large rounded fruits spoil far quicker than we can eat them so every year I dry them by the score to produce our favourite snack. Smaller pears such as conference, dry to a leathery scrap but done properly, half a comice remains fleshy and sweet developing a wonderful chewy, almost toffee-like texture. The process is simple.  Cut them in half, remove the core with a spoon and put them somewhere warm and airy. The drawback to their size is that comice take a long time to dry, usually four days or so. In years gone by I have put them low in the Rayburn oven with the door left slightly ajar, but have lost so many due to absent-mindedly closing  it, that this season I have developed a new system. A couple of years back I installed a wood burner in the bathroom, prompted by complaints from Em about the toothbrushes freezing (not a joke) and now it is stacked up with half pears on racking. The continually rising hot air has already given the skins the appearance of turning in slightly along the cut edges.  This is a good sign and I'm hopeful it will prove a more efficient method.

Drying Pears

Dinner

Spanish omelette. The chickens clearly laid well whilst we were away and the pile of eggs in the larder, scraps of ham in the fridge and the last peppers ripening outside, made the choice of dinner for me.