If You’ve Never Tried Cranberry Pear Pie, You’re In for a Treat
Okay, confession time: the first time I made this pie for a family dinner (must’ve been November in upstate New York, snow everywhere and my dad fussing over the oven setting again), I forgot to crimp the edge and it sorta leaked out artistically. My aunt claimed the messiest piece. I still take that as a weird badge of honor! Seriously though, something about the way tart cranberries and juicy pears play together—it’s become a regular in my house, especially when Grandma drops off those slightly bruised winter pears she insists are “just right for cooking.” Which, honestly, she’s right. Plus, I’ll use almost any excuse to bake when the kitchen is cold. I’ve tried baking this pie with a noisy radio in the background and sometimes with a podcast—multitasking disaster or genius, you decide.
Why I Keep Making This Pie (And Maybe You Should, Too)
I don’t know about you, but I pull out this recipe when I want something that feels festive but doesn’t take a degree in pastry science. My friends always ask for seconds. Actually, my brother once ate three slices in a row, but who’s counting. There’s this squabble every year about whether to serve it warm or cold (I lean warm, but don’t let that sway you). Oh, and if you’re worried about the cranberries being too tart, that used to bug me too, but I learned a splash more sugar totally fixes it. Or less, if you like your pie to bite back a little. It’s a good “dump everything in a bowl and hope for the best” kind of dessert, which is my speed on a Wednesday night. Also, the kitchen smells like a hug while it’s baking—good stuff if you ask me.
Gather Up These Ingredients (Swaps Welcome!)
- 1 unbaked pie crust (store-bought is usually my choice, but by all means, make your own if you have time or if pastry is your love language)
- 3–4 ripe pears, cored and sliced—not too mushy, but don’t stress if they’re a little past their prime (I sometimes use Bosc or Anjou; Granny Smith apples work too in a pinch)
- 1 generous cup fresh or frozen cranberries (dried will work, just soak them in warm water for 10–15 min first; my friend Sharon insists on Ocean Spray, but honestly whatever bags are on sale go in my cart)
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar (sometimes I swap in half brown sugar for extra coziness)
- Zest of 1 orange (mom thinks clementines are a worthy substitute—eh, she’s not wrong)
- 2 tablespoons flour or cornstarch (helps the filling firm up; I grab whichever is closer)
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg (if you love spice, add a pinch of ginger too. Or none of this, if that’s your style)
- A squeeze of lemon juice (not mandatory, but it perks things up)
- 1 tablespoon butter, cut into little bits
- Milk or beaten egg, for brushing the crust (optional, but crispy!)
- A spoonful of turbinado sugar for sprinkling (if you’re feeling fancy)
Alright, Here’s How I Throw It Together
- Preheat your oven to 400°F (200°C). Well, that’s what the old recipe says. I knock off about 10 degrees if my oven’s feeling cranky.
- Roll out your pie crust and get it into a 9-inch pie dish. No shame in patching it up if it tears—it’s pie, not rocket science.
- In a big-ish bowl, toss together your sliced pears, cranberries, sugar, orange zest, flour (or cornstarch), spices, and lemon juice. Use your hands. Or a spoon. Sneak a Cranberry if you’re feeling bold. Looks weird? Don’t worry, it always does at this point.
- Pour this lovely riot into your pie shell. Dot the top with those butter bits—pro tip: scatter butter at the last minute, else I always forget.
- If you’re making a lattice or full top crust, get creative. I usually just lay some strips on haphazardly (pretend it’s rustic). Cut a few slits for steam. Or just leave it open-faced if you hate fussing. Brush with a little milk or egg, if you remember, and sprinkle with coarse sugar if you feel like it.
- Bake in the middle of the oven for about 35-45 minutes, until the top is golden and the filling looks bubbly like a swamp (don’t panic if it leaks a bit!).
- Cool on a rack—though my cousin can never wait more than 10 minutes to slice in and nicks his tongue every time. Patience is…well, not our family’s strong suit.
Notes (Learned the Hard Way)
- If your pears are super juicy, toss them with the flour separately first. This way, the bottom crust doesn’t go soggy. I discovered this when rescuing one too many pie soups.
- Dried cranberries aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but soaking them keeps things from tasting like chewing on a shoelace.
- Pear skins? Leave them on if you’re lazy—“rustic” covers a multitude of sins.
Some Pie Experiments—The Good, The Bad, and the Odd
- Added chopped walnuts once—amazing if you want crunch. But my niece picked them out.
- Used honey instead of sugar (only half, though)—it was almost too sweet. But with sharp cranberries, not bad.
- I once added cardamom and, truthfully, it tasted a little, uh, soapy? Might just be me.
Don’t Have a Fancy Pie Plate? No Worries
I’ve baked this in a plain old baking dish; no difference, really, except you gotta watch the edges don’t burn. Foil is your friend. And if pastry cutters seem like a faff, a butter knife works just fine.
How Long It Actually Lasts (Not Long!)
You can cover leftovers with foil and keep in the fridge for about 2–3 days. Maybe four if you hide them behind the lettuce. Honestly, in my house it never lasts more than a day. I think the flavors are even better the next morning. Cold pie for breakfast? Guilty.
How We Like To Serve It
Warm is best, in my book—with either vanilla ice cream or dollops of whipped cream, and if it’s Sunday, maybe both. Sometimes I’ll do a drizzle of custard (it’s a British thing I picked up from BBC Good Food). My friend Laura adds crumbled Cheddar to the top. Different strokes, right?
Pro Tips—From the School of “Oops, That Was a Mistake”
- Don’t skimp on par-baking if your oven runs cool. I once tried skipping it, and the bottom was, um, not edible.
- If you overstuff the pie, brace yourself for a saucy oven. Line the rack with foil—seriously, this will save you cleaning time.
- Let the pie cool at least 30 min to set, else you’ll get pie soup (ask me how I know…)
You Asked, I Answered—Pie Edition
- Can I use canned pears?
- Sure! Just drain them well, and maybe use a bit less sugar. And watch out for that weird tinny aftertaste if you’re sensitive—some folks (including my sister-in-law) don’t mind it at all. Here’s a good explainer on dealing with canned fruit: Serious Eats—Canned Fruit Guide.
- What if my crust browns too fast?
- Tent with foil. I’ve even used an upside-down baking tray in a pinch; not pretty but works like a charm.
- Is a lattice crust hard?
- It can be, but honestly, I just weave a few strips and act like it’s rustic on purpose. Or skip it! No pie police will knock.
- Could I freeze the whole pie?
- Yes. Freeze unbaked, skip the egg wash, and bake straight from the freezer (add about 15 min to the bake time). I find it a tad softer, but still tasty.
One last thing (I know, I promised I was done): I once read that pies were originally a way to stretch fruit that was a little past its prime—makes sense, right? Plus, if your pears look like they lost a bar fight, now you’ve got an excuse to bake. Anyway, if you want to geek out on pie history, there’s an oddly charming writeup on Smithsonian Magazine: A Brief History of Pie. Now, wouldn’t that be a conversation starter while you slice into dessert?
