In defence of the pear

Why we think it’s time the pear stepped into the limelight

Pear.jpg

Photography: Kirstie Young

Goodness, but we love a pear. The combination of crisp and soft, sweet and refreshing, and so versatile. A pear is just as joyful whether eaten as a simple finishing point to a lunchbreak sarnie, as it is poached in wine, sunk into a crumbly cake or layered atop a tart.

But we have to say, and we don’t think we are courting controversy here, we think pears aren’t getting the love they deserve.


There’s the expression ‘pear-shaped’. In body shape terms, it may be preferable to being an ‘apple’ (or a melon soon after Christmas) but why the negative connotation in a plan ‘going pear-shaped’? Isn’t pear-shaped a beautiful and natural thing, the glorious juicy contents expanding generously towards the bottom and easing slowly outwards? If a plan goes hideously awry surely it’s starfruit-shaped? Or dragon-fruit shaped? Or pancake-shaped, even? It just seems undeserved.

We hate to take sides but our difficulty really is with the apple as pear-opponent, particularly at this time of year.

We like an apple, too, of course (some of our best friends are apples) but sometimes it seems that it’s all about apples just now. We bob for apples, we eat them from a string in silly party games, we stick the pips to our head to tell who our true love will be… October even has its own apple DAY, we recently noted. Our November issue has a rather splendid recipe for toffee apples. And we liked the results so much we even put them on the front cover, as you might have seen. You see, even we are not immune to the charms of the apple. Who doesn’t love a toffee apple?

However, we can’t help feeling that the cumulative effect of all this apple love is sometimes at the expense of the lovely, unassuming pear.

Pears have been growing in England since the year 995, so they should really have their feet firmly under the table. A pear tree may survive for up to 250 years, so it’s no surprise that the pear is a symbol of immortality in Chinese culture. Take note, apple trees, with your paltry 100-year lifespan.

An apple a day may be known for ‘keeping the doctor away’ but a pear is one of the highest-fibre fruits you can treat yourself to. It also includes calcium, magnesium, copper and manganese, as well as the antioxidant quercetin, which, according to Sunday supplements, helps prevent cancer and reduces blood pressure. Basically, if the pear were newer to the supermarket than the sun-dried tomato, we’d be calling it a superfood.

And finally, m’lud, we would like to point out that a griddled slice of pear on a crusty piece of bread with a sliver of blue cheese reclined louchely upon it is a food of the Gods, and an apple, while delicious, butters no parsnips in this circumstance. <Gavel>

We accept that may be a fruit ‘n’ veg metaphor too far, so we will bow out gracefully now, but will first give a nod to the lovely feature in our November issue on things you can do with pears today, tomorrow and next year. It’s written by Lia Leendertz who knows a thing or two about how to use orchard fruit well, with photography by Kirstie Young. One not to miss. Do send us a slice of the dark chocolate and pear cake when you’ve made it, please.


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More pear recipes…


More from the November issue…

Forgotten bookmarks

We won’t judge a book by its cover… though we might judge it by what’s left among its pages

Shakespeare and co.jpg

Illustration: Jane Mount

A shopping list for a supper with friends, last summer’s postcard, a card advertising a restaurant you don’t remember going to… The things you find you’ve left in books to mark your place, and then forgotten, often bring back a wry smile.

But the things other people have used as bookmarks and then abandoned to the pages can range from the indescribable to the indigestible.

When Washington librarian Anna Holmes tweeted earlier this year: “Dearest patrons, PLEASE stop using cheese as a bookmark. Please. We give away actual bookmarks for free. Or like use a receipt or something. Just not perishables” one would have thought the world would reel, but no.

The world responded with its own tales of bizarre bookmarks they’ve had the misfortune to find: bacon, a circular saw, a piece of broccoli, toenail clippings and a clump of hair.

It turns out forgotten bookmarks are quite a phenomenon. (We’re assuming they’re forgotten and that people aren’t putting deli items into library books intentionally).

To prove it, enter New York State second-hand bookseller Michael Popek, of Forgotten Bookmarks, who catalogues all the strange and wonderful things he has found between the pages of the books that enter his shop.

From four-leafed clovers to a marijuana leaf, love notes to a suicide note (which he chose not to photograph, understandably), each item is a tiny snapshot of an anonymous person’s life and utterly compelling for it. He photographs each object, along with the book he found it in and publishes them together. Sometimes it’s easy to imagine the reader, and the scenario in which the object ended up in the book. One can almost picture the small, slightly grubby little boy who left his Bear Cub Scouting patch inside a copy of Adventure in the Haunted House. Less easy to conjure to mind is the owner of the photograph of a coffin (occupied) inside a copy of Amelia Earhart’s The Fun of It.

Popek has published photos of some of the forgotten bookmarks he has found over the years in a book called, unsurprisingly, Forgotten Bookmarks. We thoroughly recommend it. Don’t forget to take your cheese slice out of it when you’ve finished it though.

And if you’re in search of a new favourite tome in which to lose a slice of cheddar (or worse), you might like to read ‘Looking for Books’ in our November issue, in which Frances Ambler takes an illustrated tour with Jane Mount, author and illustrator of Bibliophile, around some of the world’s best independent bookshops.

More on books…

More from November issue…


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