There’s a mysterious saying in Italy—or at least in Tuscany and Umbria—that goes like this:
Al contadino non deve far sapere/ quant’è buono il cacio con le pere
What does this mean? Literally: Never let the peasant know how good cheese is with pears.
Hunh?
No one has been able to explain this, not even Italy’s vaunted food historian Massimo Montanari who interprets the saying as an example of medieval class warfare. Such issues have a way of persisting in Italy, long past their use-by date.
I prefer my pears baked in a tarte tatin, with a side of pecorino toscano, but it might be just as good with a fine aged cheddar. Whatever, pears-and-cheese is an excellent combination, not to be disdained by peasant or gentry.
You could order a special tarte tatin pan for this splendid tart, but I use, as I have for years, a 10-inch cast-iron skillet that’s about 2 inches deep. Whatever you use, it should be able to go on the stove top as well as into the oven.
Anjou pears are lovely, but other varieties are fine too—comice or Bartlett. They should be firm and somewhat underripe so they don’t collapse in baking.
This makes about 8 servings.
Start with a pâte brisée (French for shortcrust pastry), made ahead and refrigerated for at least half an hour. (You can also make it a day or two ahead and keep it wrapped in the refrigerator until you’re ready to make the tart.)
1 ¼ cups unbleached all-purpose flour
Big pinch of fine sea salt
1 teaspoon sugar
1 stick (½ cup, 4 ounces) unsalted butter, chilled
2 or 3 tablespoons ice water
Add the flour, salt and sugar to the bowl of a food processor and process very briefly, then add the butter, cut into chunks and process again, just until the ingredients are combined and have the texture of coarse cornmeal. With the processor running, add a few tablespoons of ice water through the feed tube. Continue adding water until the dough just holds together. Be careful not to overprocess—you’ll need a minute or less for the entire procedure.
Turn the dough out onto a very lightly floured pastry board and pull it quickly into a ball, then knead it just one or two strokes and flatten it to a circle about 6 inches across. Cover it with plastic wrap and set in the refrigerator while you proceed with the rest of the recipe.
For the tarte:
Juice of half a lemon
1 tablespoon plus ½ cup sugar
5 Anjou or other pears—2 to 3 pounds
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 or 3 bay leaves
1 tablespoon chopped candied ginger
1 tablespoon pear brandy or pear eau de vie
Combine the lemon juice and the tablespoon of sugar in a bowl large enough to hold all the pears. Add a cup of water. Peel the pears, first selecting one with a nice round bottom that will fit in the center of the tarte. Cut that away and core it. Then cut the remaining pears in half, core them, quarter them and add to the bowl.
Take a 10-inch round pan, a tarte Tatin pan or a heavy ovenproof skillet. Generously butter the bottom and sides, using all the butter to make a thick layer, especially on the bottom. Sprinkle the remaining sugar over the bottom and sides, turning the pan to coat it evenly with sugar.
Now, set the round-bottomed pear in the center, cut side up. Lay the bay leaves, flat on the sugared skillet. Then, working around the edges, arrange the pear quarters in circles, pointed ends to the center, covering the entire bottom of the skillet. Fit extra slices of pear in and around the slices so that the bottom is completely covered with pears and you can’t see through. Set the skillet over low heat just until the butter melts, then turn the heat up to medium or medium-high and continue cooking until the sugar starts to brown and bubble up around the slices. Do not stir the pears. This may take as much as 20 or 30 minutes.
Set the oven on 350ºF (180ºC).
While the pears are cooking, roll the chilled pastry into a 12-inch circle. When the sugar is browned and caramelized, remove the skillet from the heat and sprinkle candied ginger and pear brandy over the top. Set the pastry circle on top (be careful—the skillet is hot!), using a table knife to tuck the overhang gently down all around the edge. Set the skillet on a rimmed sheet pan, to capture any overflowing juices, and transfer to the preheated oven. Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, or until the pastry is golden. Remove the skillet from the oven and let it rest about 15 minutes, then run a knife around the edge. Set a round serving platter over the top and very carefully, using pot holders to hold the hot skillet, turn it over. Some of the fruit may stick to the bottom of the pan but just pry it up with a spatula or palette knife and add to the tart.
Serve the tart warm with a fine fresh pecorino toscano—or with vanilla ice cream or vanilla-flavored whipped cream.
I absolutely love pears! The two pear trees we planted three years ago have unfortunately been blighted with a fungal disease--we sprayed them in the Spring, but not soon enough to prevent it, so we've gotten nary a pear from either tree. The older, falling over pear tree that was here when we bought the house is still healthy enough to produce a bumper crop of hard, tasteless fruit. I may have enough this year to feed to Holly Arbuckle's piglets again. The Elberta peach tree we planted with the two young pears has just delivered its first big crop, very late in the season--about 6 dozen peaches, with a few still up high in the tree. And they are delicious, with a complex sweet-tart flavor, and lots of juice thanks to our recent rain. Still waiting to be picked are our two quince trees, which are loaded with ripening fruit. I picked a boxful to give to my UK-born son-in-law during our recent visit to North Carolina. He was thrilled; quince was his favorite fruit growing up, and they are nowhere to be found in the South. Come to think of it, quince tarte Tatin is also a very good idea. Thanks for reminding me!
Some things are too good to forget. Yorkshirewomen are the best cooks in the UK - if someone (the WI) recommends a good cook anywhere in the country, there'll always be Yorkshire somewhere in the mix.