Pears like Christmas

We have two pear trees on the allotment, and our friends with the one next door have another with a crop so huge it has broken at least one large branch off already. Pears don't ripen on the tree, and picking them is a matter of judgement, too early as with a recent load and they remain rock hard before collapsing unpleasantly.

So yesterday I tried poaching about six or seven peeled and cut into quarters, core removed. My spirit reviews have left us with overflowing cupboards, so the syrup in which they were poached contained rum and limoncello, lots of sugar, and some cinnamon and nutmeg. It took half and hour on a very low simmer, the pace upped at the end to reduce the liquid, but the result was sublime, a taste of Christmas a whole season too early. They reminded us of some figs we used to buy from a deli in Ramsbottom (laugh now effete southerners, Rammy is a foodie oasis believe it or not). The jar sloshed with spiced syrup, served with cream and a glass of amontillado they were an annual treat until the deli changed hands and they were no longer stocked.

Given the calorific content not a pudding to be eaten daily, but we will have them again soon.