Those innocent words dropping from the lips of a helpful assistant in a fruit shop in the country town of Wallingford are still clear in my mind. Very little else of those heady days, in the early 70′s, is clear in my mind save for the memory of a constant, nagging hangover. Shooting the Habitat catalogue entailed a group of us staying in a very pleasant hotel for weeks on end so that we could spend fruitful days shooting pictures for the catalogue in the nearby warehouses that became our studio. It was the era when I was approaching photography in the same way as a Kamikaze pilot approaching Pearl Harbour save that I had not left the sake behind on the aircraft carrier, I was drinking it all the way there and, unusually for a Kamikaze pilot, all the way back. Crashing and burning was fine as I always seemed to wake up the next morning, engine coughing and spluttering, but still running. The Divine Wind was blowing a gale. To steady myself, for my duties behind the camera, I would pass by the fruit shop for my daily health ritual. Wreathed in a cloud of my own cigarette smoke I would look hard at the fruit in the hope that there would be a sign as to which sort would immediately restore me to the Godlike figure that I had been up the moment that I fell down, the previous evening. On the morning in question I made a rapid choice and uttered the fateful question ” Are those pears good?”. The puerility that was in direct proportion to the amount of alcohol still sloshing around in my system would not permit me to engage in a conversation regarding the firmness of a pair of anything, so I ordered a bag of plums.
Fast forward to this week, and pears loom large in my life yet again. The discovery of the Passe Crassane pear has been somewhat of an Epiphany. Recent posts have featured pear cake after pear cake because I’ve become very keen on pear cake. Up to this point I had opted for the particular firmness of the Conference pear. It was Jenny who spotted this wonderfully named and unusually flavoured pear. It’s a hybrid between pear and quince which brings a citrussy, nearly pineapple note with it. Such a pear eaten with Roquefort is a very good thing.
I can’t help thinking you were desperate for eau de vie de Poire Williams
It sounds like Passe Crassane and Roquefort make a nice pair!
I adore Poire William and find any excuse to use it – or Mirabelle, Quetsch or any other alcool blanc:)
Another master piece my dear – and i mean it ! Bravo !
Many thanks, Dick:)
Mmmm sounds good. I have a cat named Bartlett because when I got him, I lived on a street named Pears. He was teensy at the time. He is charcoal grey and white and it looked like he was wearing a white shirt and grey flannels. I thought he needed a CEOish kind of name. Ironically he grew up to be huge and pear-shaped. He literally grew into his name.
Love it. I have to say that several of the cats we’ve had over the years have ended up in that pear shape. It could just be laziness and eating an awful lot:)
Yeah, just like the rest of us
Roger, I usually admire your photos and wonder how you keep coming up with fresh ways to present your subjects. I take for granted the exquisite exposure and presentation. But in this case, the position of the knife in the first photo bothers me. It is a beautiful knife, not the same Opinel as in the second shot (which is IMHO a better knife for a food shot, but that is not my choice), and is stuck into the dark strip on the cutting board. Here’s my complaint (not really a complaint, more an observation): the knife point brings attention to the dark strip (I assume it is part of the grain) but the strip does not appear to have any purpose in the composition, at least none that I can see. Yes, it does link the two elements, but its direction is not exactly towards the pear. Sorry to rabbit on, but it is not often I get to raise any kind of question about one of your photos.
Thanks for the pointer to Passe Crassane pears. Next time at the markets. – James
I take your point, so to speak, James. The dreadful truth is that I just stuck it in the board wherever. The original thought was that it was like a sundial, and then the sun went in:)
Ooo er Matron…I do love the look and sound of those Passe Crassane Pears!
They are certainly very sexy and well worth checking out. Apparently they arrive after the Comice pears:)
A pear crossed with a quince.. hmm.. well i guess you had piles of fun.. pity you can’t remember any of it.. or maybe it is just as well.. I used to go and pick up my boss from that fancy pancy film people hotel in soho often enough.. i know what you boys were up to!
I think we’re talking of Hazlitt’s:)
That first pic, Roger. So rakish. It afforded me a much needed chuckle.
And now I think I may try pear cake, but is it worth it, with strange midwinter supermarket pears from somewhere just outside London?
Use Conference pears, Kate, they work very well.
Roger, Really gorgeous photographs, again some wonderful writing!…and the hybrid of a quince and a pear sounds nothing short of divine to my ears! And with Roquefort? (gasp!)
They’ve been a real discovery. I made a Tarte Tatin with those pears and walnuts yesterday – very good:)
For your sake today and tomorrow, am glad to see the story largely written in the past tense
!
Too right, I couldn’t live through that again:)
Pear and Roquefort, delicious! And I’m jealous of your seventies photography lifestyle!,,
I have to say that I wasted a lot of my life – but it was fun:)
A cross between a quince and a pear? Good lord, don’t tell Steve. He’ll have a whole orchard planted in our front yard immediately. (Love the photo of the pear and cheese.)
They really are worth hunting out, Michelle. They seem to appear on the stalls after the Comice pears have finished. I think a couple of trees would be a very good idea:)
That pear! And, the cheese! Oh, that is beautiful.
It is a top combination:)
I never would have thought of those nights long ago as kamikaze flights but, I must admit, the analogy is a good one. To this day I don’t know how I/we did it but I’m awfully glad I’m here to wonder about it.
Quince aren’t exactly common around here. The chances of finding a cross of a pear with quince would be near impossible. I’ll just admire your photography instead.
Never have so few owed so much to so many:)
That hybrid pear sounds interesting.
I’ve only just heard of it, but my neighbours all know it well. It’s worth checking out:)
Hi there. Don’t know how you feel about the awards bloggers give each other. But I am nominating you for the Inspiring Blogger award. Details will be on my blog tomorrow (Sunday). I really enjoy your blog.
That’s extremely kind of you, Fransi, but I’ll pass on that. Just being nominated is enough. Thanks again.
I love pears too …. et surtout la passe crassane, si juteuse. (et la louisebonne) ; très jolie photo !
Je connais pas la Louisebonne – il me faut en essayer:)
Beautifully written and photographed post, sir…
Thanks, Giovanna:)
Gosh! Your photos are gorgeous and your posts are engaging! I’m hooked!
Many thanks for the good words and thanks for following my blog:)
Oh you’re very welcome! Courtesy of fransiweinstein who nominated your blog for an award
I love pears and with roquefort….sounds great, wonderful pictures!
These pears are particularly good with blue cheese.
I´ll try with blue cheese
You won’t regret it:)