Rustic Pear Tart



Pears.  Pears at the end of the summer, fresh from a local orchard.
Pears in a box on my kitchen counter, ripening with the most delicious smell.
Such a simple gift, and yet my heart sings with gratitude for pears!


Every summer as I do my fall canning and baking, I wonder which I like better:  peaches or pears.
And every fall when I’m finished, I still can’t decide.  I love different things about both of them.

This recipe is one which makes me lean toward pears as the yummiest.
I’ve been making this tart for years, and it is one of my favorite fall recipes.


Usually I prefer homemade pie crusts.  They are so much better.  However, I’m not above taking advantage of the convenience of store-bought pie crusts sometimes.  With a newborn baby, I was aware that if I made the crust from scratch I might not have time to make the tart, so today I skipped the crust and used a Pillsbury one.  And as someone who’s made and given away lots of these tarts over the years, I can tell you that many people can’t taste the difference.

Hopeful Homemaker’s Rustic Pear Tart

1 pie crust 4 ripe medium sized pears 3/4 cup sugar 1/4 cup flour 1 tsp. cinnamon 1 Tb. lemon juice 1/4 cup sliced or slivered almonds Roll out pie crust and place in pie pan or on baking sheet.  (I prefer a pie pan in case of drips) Peel and slice pears.  Place in mixing bowl.  Add sugar, flour, cinnamon, lemon juice and almonds.
Gently mix until combined.  Spoon filling onto center of pie crust, leaving 2-3 inches of pastry around edges.
Fold pastry up over pie filling.  Bake at 375 for 45-50 minutes or until golden brown.  Cool and serve.


Of all the pear recipes I’ve tasted, this rustic pear tart is by far our favorite.  The almonds add a surprising but delicious crunch, but they can be omitted if you prefer.  I hope you enjoy it!

Jennifer

Birdie Blanket

A week or two ago, my parents got news that their 18th grandchild was born.  Pretty neat, especially when you consider that half of their children aren’t parents yet.

My oldest is their first grandchild.  When he was born, my mom made him a flannel quilt.  He loved it to death and she made him another a few years later.  She’s made one for every one of her grandchildren since then, and my son is not the only one to have received a replacement.

Last weekend she gave me the blanket she’d made for my baby.
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My Mom would say that her quilts aren’t much, but I love them.  I also love this flannel.  Little flowers and birds and butterflies.  Perfect.  I also love the edge she always puts on them.
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Look at this, a little baby girl wrapped up in blankets made by her Mom and Grandma.  What could be better?
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Thanks, Mom.  It’s perfect.

Blessing Blanket

For my baby’s blessing day, I had pictured a lovely little pieced quilt in all white.

But on the morning of the blessing, I had nothing done.  I saw this coming, so I had picked up a minky fabric with a lovely paisley and flower like pattern on it, and some white satin blanket binding to make a  ruffle with.
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A few minutes at the sewing machine and this is what we had:
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It turned out really pretty, and it looked lovely with her gown.
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There she was, the star of the evening, and she slept right through it.
Can’t say that I blame her.
And may I be allowed to say that I love, I mean I LOVE the little rhinestones on that waist?
Meaning, I am smitten with that gown.  It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

Next to the baby, that is.  She’s perfect, and I love her so much.
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So, now that the event is over, I can’t put the blanket away.  I know I’m just begging for something bad to happen to it, to stain it or otherwise ruin it before I pack it away, but I can’t help myself.  It’s the perfect weight and it’s so soft and pretty.  I wish I had one my size!  So I just keep wrapping her in it.  And life is good when you can do that.
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