Slow-Cooked Gingered Pears

New Year's Eve, 2020. If any year has earned a proper send-off it is this one, though I find myself less inclined to celebration than to plain witnessing. I opened a good bottle of Burgundy — something I'd been keeping for a year with no specific occasion in mind — and made a proper dinner: duck breast with cherry sauce, roasted root vegetables from the cellar, a green salad with the last of the stored shallots. Ate it slowly. Watched the fire. Thought about the year.

What I know about this year: I cooked more than any previous year. I grew more than any previous year. I preserved more. I wrote more. I talked to my daughter more. I taught my grandson to make pasta and bread and risotto and hollandaise and mince pie and French onion soup and several other things I'd never taught anyone before. I had a first frost and a last frost and a maple season and a full summer and a fall and now a winter. I made rhubarb jam that smelled like Helen. I put Finn's red truck on the kitchen windowsill.

The world was terrible in ways I don't need to list. My small world was full and good. Those two things coexist. They have to.

The vaccine news is promising. I've been reading about the distribution timelines, trying to understand what spring might look like. The sap will run in March regardless. By then, who knows what else might be possible. I went to bed at ten, which is not exactly a celebration, but I woke up in 2021 with the woodstove warm and the property silent under snow and felt, against all odds, hopeful.

The duck and the Burgundy were the meal, but the pears were the close — something I’d set going in the slow cooker early in the afternoon so the kitchen would smell of ginger and cinnamon while I cooked everything else. That kind of recipe suits a night like that one: it does its work quietly and without asking anything of you, which is about all I had to offer on December 31st, 2020. If you’re making this dinner — the duck, the roasted roots, the salad — put these on before you do anything else, and by the time the dishes are washed they’ll be ready.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 3 hrs 30 min | Total Time: 3 hrs 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

6 firm pears (Bosc or Anjou), peeled, halved, and cored
1/3 cup honey
3 tablespoons fresh ginger, finely grated
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup apple cider (or dry white wine)
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Pinch of kosher salt
Creme fraiche or plain yogurt, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Prepare the pears. Peel, halve, and core the pears. Arrange them cut-side down in a single layer in the insert of a 6-quart slow cooker.
Make the spiced syrup. In a small bowl, whisk together the honey, grated ginger, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, lemon juice, apple cider, vanilla, and salt until combined.
Add the syrup. Pour the spiced syrup evenly over the pears, tilting the insert to distribute it around the fruit.
Slow cook. Cover and cook on LOW for 3 to 3 1/2 hours, until the pears are completely tender when pierced with a knife but still holding their shape. Avoid cooking on HIGH, which can cause the pears to turn mushy.
Reduce the liquid. Using a slotted spoon, carefully transfer the cooked pears to a serving dish. Pour the cooking liquid into a small saucepan and simmer over medium heat for 8—10 minutes, until slightly thickened and syrupy.
Serve. Spoon the warm ginger syrup over the pears. Serve as-is or alongside a dollop of creme fraiche or plain yogurt. These keep well refrigerated for up to 4 days and are equally good cold.

Nutrition (per serving)

Slow-Cooked Gingered Pears — A Sweet Close to a Year Worth Witnessing