Once upon a time there were two enormous Comice Pears. Well, for that matter, there is a whole bag of them, but suspecting their ripeness, I only started with two. I washed and sliced them in preparation for the next vodka infusion. But as I sliced, my suspicions were confirmed-- they were too crisp, and not sweet enough. And so I needed to think of another plan.
I thought of my beloved radio show, The Splendid Table, and the advice given on it last week to a caller who had to figure out what to do with his bumper crop of pears. The infinitely knowledgeable host Lynn Rosetto-Kaspar suggested a roast. Sprinkle the sliced pears in olive oil, sugar, cinnamon, and rosemary (pestled to avoid crunch) and spread out in a casserole. Roast in a hot (450) oven until brown, bubbly, and carmelized.
The result was gorgeous, rich, and delicious. But what to do with them? Was I to eat them plain? While eating one slice was decadent, I couldn't foresee that I wouldn't be wholly taking advantage of the flavors eating them unaccompanied. And so I whipped up a coffee cake, the recipe for which belonged to my great-grandmother. Instead of chopped walnuts or pecans for the topping, I toasted and chopped some almonds instead. Also, in went the pears (chopped).
The cake, as you can see, is beautiful, and better yet, it tastes great. The sweet, smoky roasted pears provide the perfect mushiness to counterbalance the crunchy nuts, and to moisten the dense cake. I knew these pears were destined for something great-- and to think, I had planned for them something as lowly as vodka! (The pears' brothers and sisters, however, still ripening in a bag on the counter, won't be so lucky.)
