A few weeks ago, I felt like baking a pear pie. With cardamom, vanilla and spices. In a rectangular serrated baking pan. Call me pain in the a**. (Since, of course, I did not have the precise pan among all my pastry
mess tools. It would have been too easy.) So, I went sales shopping, found the perfect pan and almost smashed the face of a really unpleasant lady.
Here is the recipe (a little bit long, but easy-peasy) as well as the story of myself playing Rambo (don’t mess with me!) Follow me, c’est par ici:
For the spiced poached pears
- 8 firm pears
- 10 ounces red wine
- 2.5 cups granulated sugar
- 4 cups water
- A homemade spices mix (I used cardamom, black pepper, cinnamon, and cloves, but feel free to choose whatever spice you like!)
Start by making the syrup in which the pears will be poached. In a large saucepan over heat, mix the water, the sugar and the spices. Cut the pears in half and drop it in the boiling syrup for a few minutes, until the center is tender. (Use a knife to check the cooking.) When it’s done, align them on a plate and let cool. Reduce the rest of the syrup and stop the heat when thick. Set aside.
- 1/2 cup mascarpone
- 1 cup whipping heavy cream
- 1/4 cup confectioners’ sugar
- Vanilla extract (taste)
Whip the cream and add the vanilla and a little bit of sugar. When firm, add the mascarpone.
As for the montage, it’s “easy as pie” : dough + creme + pears. Let cool in the fridge for a few hours to get nice slices (but if you don’t care, be my guest and go for it right away!) Serve with the lukewarm syrup.
At first, I was a little bit worried about the amount of sugar, but it was just perfect. You can adjust it to your taste by adding or removing sugar in the Chantilly.
I am pretty sure a few of you kept reading just to know about my
true colors story, here you are:
10 am, in a store on sale, I shop with another good hundred nice and polite people (it’s a small store and everybody is bumping into everybody else, exchanging a lot of “I’m sorry” in the process.) At some point comes this fourty something lady who deliberately bumps into me, point blank, and sighs loudly. I politely let her know that a “sorry” would have been more decent, when she answers me a really nice “shut up, bitch” before running to the other part of the shop (yes, she ran!) Unfortunately for her, I am hot-blooded, so I ran after her, just to share my points of view. It was quite funny (at least for me) and believe me, she’s not gonna be insulting anybody else in a near future!
Moral of the story? Being polite is not just for ornament. And if you want to insult me, please be brave enough to look at me in the eyes while doing it! (And avoid calling me “bitch”, as well!)
On this nice and philosophical story, I wish you a pleasant day!