A good pear is hard to beat. My parents get the Harry and David pears at Christmastime, and I adore and cherish those bites of melt-in-your-mouth peardom. But rarely am I patient enough to buy those hard pears at the grocery store and then wait for them to ripen. Sometimes, if I do actually buy them and put them in a dark corner of our cupboard to ripen, I forget about them and find them two weeks later at a stage way past ripe.
Not these pears. I bought them. I stored them. They ripened. I shared one slice with my dear hubby and then I ate the rest of them. Better luck next time, baby.