As a child, I have distinct recollections of eating canned pears that were preserved by my mother. Sweet, soft and totally irresistible. I am always amazed how food can affect emotions and stir up memories. When I began canning, naturally I started with pears. Store bought tinned pears do not compared to a jar of preserved pears put up with care at home. As I’ve journeyed through canning these last few years, canned pears continue to be the the star of the canning show. They aren’t fancy, only canned in a simple light sugar syrup, but sometimes the simplest things are the most delightful.
Yesterday, it was a beautiful day. I wanted to spend the day outside enjoying the Fall colours. Instead, I spent the whole afternoon peeling and canning perfectly ripe pears. At first, I felt a little annoyed at being indoors on such a lovely day. Of course, it was my own fault for buying over fifty pounds of pears. As I started peeling the pears, their smell reminded me how they will bring shouts of glee and happy thoughts during the cold winter months. Soon I found myself humming Christmas carols… strange, I know. With the help of Hubby, I managed to put up twenty-seven quarts of pears. What a success but what a lot of work!