Bay, pear & salty oat chocolate pots for the strong of heart

Growing pears is unfathomable and heartbreaking. Here's why.

Welcome to this week’s recipe post, where I share the latest goings on in the garden and a recipe inspired by the harvests.

Currently, the recipe is free to everyone (though that’s likely to change soon). If you’d like to consider upgrading to a paid subscription, it costs less than a fancy bag of pears per month and you’ll receive a weekly PDF recipe card, an Extra Helping (this week it’s more ways with the main recipe plus extra bay leaf dessert ideas), a monthly video (like this), and plenty more (see here).

Whichever subscription you pick, I’m just grateful you’re here. Otherwise it’d just be me and the snails. So thank you.

This extract from the Apples and Pears chapter of my cookbook, From the Veg Patch, summarises how I feel about pears:

Pears are unfathomable and heartbreaking. All the same variables apply as for apples, but should you succeed in prevailing upon a tree to fruit, you must be ready to defend it from invasion. Pears have softer flesh than apples and are even sweeter and juicer once ripe, making them easy and irresistible pickings to almost anything that flies, from wasps to wood pigeons, and some ground troops too, like acrobatic mice. Many a pear-grower will put in all the effort of establishing a tree only to see it pillaged by wildlife every year. I am not a pear-grower.

Plus, I was once told a story by a gardener who had tended his pear tree all summer, wafting away wasps, discouraging birds and making daily visits to one particularly perfect pear, waiting for it to reach ripe plumpness before picking. On the morning he went to finally pick this flawless specimen, he found nothing but a ravaged core on a stalk and a fat, drunk little blackbird sitting beneath it. I’m not sure I could handle that kind of disappointment, so I buy my pears and stick to growing apples, which seem less appealing to greedy blackbirds.

Whilst my pear harvest is nothing more than a fantasy, I have had one very pleasing win in the garden recently.

The bay tree, which looked to be on its last legs, has revived and is flowering. Yes, flowering. In the spring, seeing that it was in distress (no new growth, discoloured leaves etc), I cut back the stricken branches and pepped up the soil in the container, for it lives in a terracotta pot, with chicken manure. And success. There’s plenty of new growth now and I feel it’s strong enough for a small harvest of a few leaves.

So this week, a shop-bought pear harvest and my own bay leaves combine to make an autumnal pud. Plus, the toasted oats earworm that started here continues to the dessert course.

For paid subscribers (as well as the usual PDF of the recipe), more ways with bay in desserts, plus endless variations on this chocolate pot + seasonal harvest theme.

Bay, pear & salty oat chocolate pots

I’m sorry you need a temperature probe for this one, but you just do. Get one. It takes all the anxiety out of cooking. Everything you cook, from custard to rare lamb, will thank you. I like Thermapen (I really should ask them to sponsor me…). Once you have the kit, this is a straightforward dish that feels much fancier than it really is.

Makes 2 big portions or 4 dainty ones

• 2 egg yolks

• 25g caster sugar

• 100ml double cream

• 80ml whole milk

• 2 bay leaves, plus extra small ones for garnish

• 100g dark chocolate, chopped

• 30g salted butter

• 2 small pears, cored and cut into eighths

• 1 tbsp jumbo oats

• 1 tbsp coarse oatmeal

• 2 tbsp chopped hazelnuts

• ¼ tsp flaky salt

Whisk the egg yolks and sugar together in bowl until pale and thick. This takes a few minutes but is key to a light, mousse-y texture so don’t rush it.

Combine the cream and milk in a pan. Creased 2 bay leaves so they release their flavour and add to the pan. Bring to the boil, just briefly, then pour the cream/milk over the yolk/sugar mixture, whisking as you go. Return the whole lot to the same pan and cook over a low heat, stirring all the while, until it reaches 75C. Remove from the heat, pour into a large bowl and cool to around 50C.

Meanwhile, melt the chocolate over a double boiler, bain marie or in the microwave. Remove the bay leaves from the lukewarm custard, add the melted chocolate and stir until combined. If it seizes or looks lumpy, give it some gentle encouragement with a whisk.

Pour into wide, shallow bowls, pressing a little bay leaf onto the surface of each, then put them in the fridge to set for at least 4 hours, but ideally overnight.

Shortly before you’re ready to serve, make the pears and oats which go on top - they’re best warm. Melt the butter in frying pan over a medium-high heat. Add the pears and fry on each side of 3-4 minutes until golden. Lift out onto a plate, leaving the buttery juices behind. Turn the heat down a little and add the oats, oatmeal, hazelnuts and salt to the pan. Fry for 2-3 minutes until browned. Check the seasoning – it should taste quite salty.

Remove the chocolate pots from the fridge, arrange a few warm pear wedges on top, spoon over the salty, crispy oats and serve.

Now, here’s the PDF recipe card (have you tried printing direct from the Substack www? It’s a disaster! You’ll be needing the recipe card.) Plus, in this week’s Extra Helping, variations on the choc pot recipe and more ways to use bay in desserts…