One downside to living in the north east is the unavailability of good, fresh fruit. During my last pie session, a recipe from Carroll's "Pie, pie, pie" book caught my eye. It called for a half dozen ripe Bosc pears. This is a nonstarter for any impulse cooking, as the supermarket pears around here are good for shipping, not good for eating. But you buy 'em and put them away for a week or more and hope to remember them before they go rotten.
Last Saturday was my day to remember the Boscs I had put up on a shelf. Again, out of character, I put the dough for the crust together in the morning and made the pie late in the evening. Late enough that I didn't even cut into the pie until Sunday when Jen and Josie were visiting. The two tablespoons of rum were a bit pronounced. Either less or a lighter rum is called for next time. And there will be a next time.




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