Making the most of what there’s most of

Every year, there are certain crops that do extremely well, while others falter or fail. 

Several years ago, the pear tree in my front yard produced more pears than I thought the tree could possibly hold — thirty-four heaping five-gallon buckets of Bartlet pears. I couldn’t keep up with picking them off the ground as they fell from the branches every day. It went on relentlessly for weeks.

This is on my mind at this moment because just the other day I used my last quart of home-canned pears from that year. 

Memories flooded back to me, memories of processing the pears, memories of my father helping me with many repetitive motions involved with preserving them in every way.

We canned them, juiced them, dehydrated them, cooked and mashed them into pear sauce, and fermented them into pear cider vinegar (a labor of love).

A year or so before the profuse-pear-year, my neighbor gifted me with a bushel of apples she picked from a relative’s orchard. That particular year, apples had been very prolific. Something had to be done!

I’d always wanted to try making raw apple cider vinegar, so I saw this as an opportunity. 

I chopped them, filled several vats, added water, sugar, and yeast, covered them with cheesecloth, and waited for time and temperature to do the rest. The concoction proceeded through the various stages from cider to bubbly champagne to wine, and finally, raw apple cider vinegar.

I supposed that putting the pears through the same process would result in pear cider vinegar.

I’d never heard of pear cider vinegar, but my understanding of the science behind the process was that it should yield a similar product. I was in the mood to experiment.

I repeated the procedure for apple cider vinegar, substituting pears for apples. In addition to whole pears cut into pieces, I also used the peels and cores of the pears that had been canned and mashed into sauce. 

The results were outstanding. I decanted some liquid at each phase so that I could store bottles of each: cider, champagne, wine, and vinegar. Since I didn’t add anything to stop the fermentation, it all slowly advanced to the vinegar stage. No harm done.

Since that first batch nine years ago, I haven’t needed to buy vinegar at the supermarket. The pear tree yields enough fruit each year to replenish my supply. 

If there’s a late frost, there will be no pears that year, but there’s enough vinegar from prior years to last until the tree bears fruit again. 

I use my pear vinegar on salads, in marinades, in cleaners and solutions to wash fruits and vegetables, and to sanitize food containers. I also use it to soak bones prior to making bone broth.

We are blessed with an overabundance of certain crops. Every crop takes its turn at showing off. One year, it’s tomatoes. Another year, it’s green beans. When it’s apples or pears, making vinegar is a way to make the most of what there’s most of!

Susan