Oval body with wobbly lumps here and there, greenish yellow skin and slight red blushing, long stems and white flesh.
The first one of these that I had smelled like a rose. I couldn’t stop talking about it. But every one I’ve had since then has smelled like a mild apple and pear with only the tiniest floral scent. Nonetheless I am rating this a five based solely on that first one and the sweet, loving, rosy memory that is etched forever into my mind.
Really crunchy, juicy and airy; I find the texture to be very satisfying and compelling; I just want to keep biting it except it is so easy to eat that after four or five bites it’s gone – nothing like those carrot bites that just go on and on and on with chewing and you have to use a gulp of water to get it down. No – nothing like that.
Very soft flavor but with lots of layers; some bites seem bland, some floral, some spicy, some citrusy, some sweet.
OVERALL Overall Rating:
This is a fun little pear and if they all smelled like roses, I would want to wear them on my lapel. (Yes, I use the word “lapel”. Shut up.) Luckily (I suppose) they don’t smell that heavenly and so I don’t have to endure the public mockery – at least, not for that anyway.
If you see these, get the ones with the slight red blush. According to the lovely older gentleman at the market, those are much better. If you want to read up on Fragrant Pears and their 1300 year history, there is a New York Times article here, which also quotes a fruit importer named Jacky Chan. I can’t help but imagine someone doing flips through the custom lines, karate chopping the officials, smiling for the security cameras and tossing pears through the air to cohorts. Fruit importing is bad ass.