In all the excitement of the holidays, I somehow came down with a nasty cold that has temporarily taken away my ability to taste. For some people, getting sick sends them to bed all day and ensures at least one day of pampering from their mothers or husbands. Others go about business as normal, only slightly deterred by their pounding temples. But me, I stop being able to taste my food. And that, my friends, is the absolute worst punishment anyone could ever curse me with.
This has happened to me before. My family rents a cabin on Lake Coeur d'Alene every August. We spend a week waterskiing, wakesurfing, dock jumping, and eating Mom's best recipes, hardly ever changing out of our swimsuits and definitely never coming indoors until we absolutely have to. But yes, one year I had such a yucky sinus infection that I could not savor Mom's famous barbecue ribs or taste Dad's peach pie. It. was. the. worst.
Honestly, I'm counting my blessings that my taste buds didn't have to miss our Thanksgiving feast this year (the inability to taste came on the following day). I don't know what I would've done if I hadn't been able to savor the sage-butter-rubbed turkey or the homemade rolls or the green bean casserole. It's okay that I can't quite taste the preheated leftovers we've been eating; after all, I already feasted upon those tastes a couple days ago, and how different could they really be?
Still, a clogged nose sure takes away my desire to cook. What's the point of creating something wonderful if I won't be able to taste it? And so I am left dreaming of tastes that could be, like this pear and fresh cranberry heaven topped with crumble made from crushed gingerbread cookies.
I had never eaten a fresh cranberry before this week, though I love the dried and sweetened kind. (Pour a bunch of dried cranberries into a bag with a broken chocolate orange and you have the perfect snack for a day on the slopes.) I've always been fascinated with the way cranberries are harvested; it's been a strange fantasy of mine to one day swim through a flooded cranberry field, the tiny ruby orbs surrounding me as I glide through them.
For Thanksgiving dessert, I decided to let the ruby-red berries swim with pears instead of me (I'll survive). Pear and cranberry proved to be the perfect companions, complementing one's subtle sweetness with the other's delightful tartness. Since I've always preferred crisps and cobblers to pies and cakes, I crumbled a gingerbread-cookie topping over the fruit for a spicy third player. The result was fabulous, both in aroma and taste--a perfect cap for a holiday dinner.
Cranberry, Pear, and Gingersnap Crisp
Filling:
4 large pears (I used a mix of D'Anjou, red, and Bosc pears), peeled, halved, cored, and sliced 1/4-inch
1 1/2 cups fresh cranberries
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon zest, finely grated
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/3 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons instant tapioca
Topping:
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons brown sugar
1 cup gingersnap crumbs (from about 4 large homemade cookies)
1/8 teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter, melted and cooled
Preheat oven to 350°F.
In a sealed, large ziploc bag, crush gingersnaps until crumbs are around the size of peas. Combine gingersnap crumbs with other topping ingredients until large crumbs form. Set aside.
In a 2-quart baking dish, stir pears and cranberries together. Add other filling ingredients, and stir until fruit is well coated.
Sprinkle the gingersnap topping over the fruit.
Bake for 45 minutes, or until the topping is nicely browned and the fruit juices are bubbling.
