Don’t you love pears? Maybe not as much as I do. I love their taste, their texture, everything about them. But only when they’re perfectly ripe. Why is it so hard to find ripe fruit in the United States? Maybe it’s me. Recently, my friend Nick offered beautifully ripe Forelle pears as part of his Christmas dessert table. He said he’d bought them firm, ripened them in a paper bag, removing them at the first touch of softness at the blossom end. I found some Forelle pears and tried it. Nada. Oh, well. I have my memories. Like that of these beauties in Montreal’s central market. So ripe and juicy and flavorful. And look. There’s a plate of sample slices just in case you’re from the USA and don’t believe that ripe pears can be found.