Pear, Ginger & Green Tea Cooler

A quick note from the cottage porch: This journal entry contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. If you use these links to gather your supplies from Amazon or Walmart, a small commission floats back to the cottage to keep the kettle boiling, at no extra cost to you.

This morning was cool enough that I spent several hours intending to make hot tea.

By afternoon, this had become an unreasonable position.

The kitchen was warm. The insects outside were making such a determined amount of noise that the garden seemed to be vibrating slightly. Even the seed envelopes on the shelf had curled at the corners, though they may have done that yesterday. They are private little objects and do not report their activities.

I had brought in a pear for the tea.

A firm pear, I thought.

The pear disagreed.

The knife went through it with almost no resistance, revealing that it had reached the extremely brief stage between perfectly ripe and you had better do something about this immediately.

So I did.

I diced the pear and put it in a small saucepan with water, honey, and several thin slices of fresh ginger. The first slice released that bright, peppery scent which goes straight up the nose and rearranges the afternoon.

Recent teas have been soft things. Flowers. Leaves. Herbs behaving gently in warm water.

Ginger has elbows.

The pear mixture simmered until the fruit softened completely and the liquid turned pale gold. I crushed the pieces lightly with the back of a spoon, then strained everything and set the syrup aside to cool.

Smokey appeared during the crushing stage.

He sniffed the saucepan.

He sniffed the cutting board.

He looked at me.

I explained that it was pear.

He left.

Apparently fruit without useful meat is not worth supervising.

For the tea, I steeped two green tea bags in hot—but not boiling—water for just under three minutes. Green tea requires a little restraint. Leave it too long and it begins expressing strong opinions about lawns.

Maeve crushes softened pear and ginger in a small saucepan at a worn kitchen counter, with sliced pear, an old knife, cooling tea, and curled seed envelopes on a shelf behind her.

I tasted it before combining anything.

There was a small grimace.

A thoughtful pause.

No lawn clippings.

Good.

Once both parts had cooled, I poured the pear and ginger mixture into the tea a little at a time. The pear was already very sweet, and I wanted the finished drink to taste like tea with ripe fruit in it, not a pear that had obtained a beverage license.

Over ice, it turned a clear green-gold.

The ginger sharpened the sweetness. The green tea kept everything light. Condensation bloomed over the glass almost immediately and ran cool beneath my fingers.

I carried it to the shaded porch, where the garden was still intensely green and the afternoon had no interest whatsoever in the temperature of the morning.

The calendar may say what it likes.

Today wanted cold tea.

Pear, Ginger & Green Tea Cooler

Makes approximately two servings

For the pear and ginger base

1 ripe pear, diced
1 cup water
1–2 tablespoons honey or sugar
4–5 thin slices fresh ginger

For the green tea

2 green tea bags or about 2 teaspoons loose-leaf green tea
2 cups water heated to about 175°F / 80°C
Ice, if wanted
Thin fresh pear slices, optional

Method

Place the diced pear, water, honey or sugar, and ginger in a small saucepan.

Bring to a gentle simmer and cook for 8–10 minutes, until the pear is very soft and the liquid is fragrant. Lightly crush the fruit with the back of a spoon, then strain. Allow the pear and ginger liquid to cool.

Separately, steep the green tea in 2 cups of water at about 175°F / 80°C for 2–3 minutes. Remove the tea bags or strain out the leaves, then let the tea cool.

Taste the tea cautiously for signs of lawn.

Combine it with the cooled pear mixture, adding the pear a little at a time until the sweetness suits you.

Refrigerate until cold, then serve over ice if the afternoon warrants it. Add a thin slice of fresh pear if you are feeling decorative.

I drank mine on the porch while the insects continued their meeting.

It was delicious.

That was enough.