Our pear tree is prolific. And I don't have enough friends to give them away fast enough. In fact I really only have a couple friends, but that is besides the point. The pears are ripening, falling off the tree and mulching themselves into the lawn before my very own eyes.
We've had pear cobbler, pear tart, pear smoothies, Indian chicken with pear sauce, pear pie, pear and cheese salad. I'm getting a little peared out! I was thinking this very morning, as I was picking up the overripe ones around the base of the tree, whether I'd met my pear saturation mark and what I was going to do with the rest of them when I remembered our neighbor Caroline had mentioned something about a dehydrator.
Caroline and Mark are our french Canadian neighbors that live around the corner from us (our backyards butt up against one another). They have a 3 year old daughter named Arianne and a delux swingset that Isla has looked longingly at through the fence since we moved in. Well today Isla had her chance to swing and slide to her heart's content with her new friend Arianne, and I solved my pear problem.
Our playdate worked out really well, the girl's got along swimmingly, Rosoce was, well Roscoe, smiley and happy as always to do whatever, and Caroline and I cored and chopped pears while we visited and reminisced about the motherland.
They have a great food dehydrating set up, with a corer contraption that is cooler than cool. And the best part is that I don't have to feel guilty about not wanting to eat ANYMORE PEARS. We can dry them and save 'em for later this winter.