Without thinking of why, I bought some pears this week.

I love pears but I never buy them.

I don’t know why.

I tend to buy apples.

Without thinking of why, I bought pears early in the week before Mother’s Day.

I always have.

I let them get soft and sweet and then early Sunday morning I slice them and sauté them in butter.

While they slowly cook, I mix the batter for the crepes that will surround them.

I whip the cream that will go on top and – my favorite part – I cook sugar and cream into the perfect caramel sauce to drizzle on top.

I put the coffee on and I listen for Kim to come downstairs.

I heat a pan and swirl the batter for the first crepe.

This one isn’t for Kim and it’s not for me. The first one is always for the dog. It never comes out quite right – but once it cools, she’s happy to have it.

The second, third, and fourth ones – those are for Kim. The next three are for me.

Not last year. Not the year before. Not this year.

This year I’ll eat the pears like apples.

I won’t peel and core them.

I won’t sauté them in butter.

I won’t blanket them in a crepe topped with whip cream with caramel sauce drizzled on top.

I’ll just eat them.

I guess that’s a good enough reason to buy pears.

Published in: on May 9, 2019 at 10:55 am  Leave a Comment