Pear, Pear Everywhere

Imagine a food of such supreme flavor, such gustatory gravitas, that it overwhelms not just the tongue but the entire body. What could possibly satisfy such a fantasy? Surely not the simple pear, or so I would have thought this morning. In my life up to this morning I had never seen someone lunging at spoonfuls of pureed pear. I had never seen a practice of diminutive self-flagellation in the absence of continued pear supply. I had not seen a very little boy overwhelmed not just in his sense of taste but in physical body.

Today was pear tasting #2. I pureed four red anjou pears and froze most of the resulting mush in ice cube trays for the future. With about a 1/2 cup left, the feeding frenzy began. Half of it went down Thumper's throat; half was smeared in an irregular but complete covering over his body. He loved it, possibly to much. The scene evoked images of Roman gluttony (and more). Perhaps he will be a emperor (ceasar?) some day.