Pears are kind of boring on their own and have the annoying habit of being ripe for 3.5 seconds before they turn into a disgusting, grainy mess. Kind of like avocados, and they are even WORSE. “Don’t eat me. Don’t eat me. Not ready yet. EAT ME. Too late, asshole.”

So pears. Yeah. They do that too. BUT. If you go out to your groves and select a few “ripe this afternoon” ones to make a delicious cocktail, you can feel amazing and tipsy at the same time. And this recipe is simple and so beautiful, just like me.

You’ll need about two cups of fresh apple juice, if you’re planning on serving this at a dinner party (you are), one ripe but firm pear, so be responsible and discriminatory. Firm but ripe. Ready. Waiting. Hard to the touch. But just soft enough that you could penetrate its heart if you really had to. You get the picture.

Go to your garden and grab a hefty handful of thyme. Like 12-15 sprigs. Doesn’t really matter. Enough. Open your antique liquor cabinet and pull out the Grand Marnier. You could also use Orange Curaçao if you like Dutch people, and who doesn’t? I mean Charles the Bold is such a badass name for a duke. Plus there’s all that cinnamon and saffron.

Make a decision on the orange liqueur and then select a very dry bottle of champagne. We are not serving this to a frat house full of beer pongers. DRY. Combine the apple juice, pear (very thinly sliced), thyme and 1/4 c liqueur. Let it sit in your fridge for several hours while you pick out a new nail color. Maybe Peachy Nude. That would look amazing holding this cocktail. Mutually beneficial. Not too aggressive. Simpatico.

Pour it into six glasses, discard the thyme, and fill the remaining with champagne. Garnish with a fresh sprig of thyme and smile.

Love,
Madeline