Afood can be too subtle for its own good. I am not saying that nobody buys pears any more, but it is not a fruit we rhapsodise about. We often track down obscure apple varieties at farmer's markets, but the pear does not provoke such zeal. The apple is immediately ready to eat and rewards you with tight skin, crunch and tart-sweet juice. The pear you must wait for, as it is rarely sold ripe, and when perfection comes it is fleeting. It is said that you must sit up at night if you are to catch its moment of optimum love­liness. So perhaps we are a little impatient with the pear.

But we should love it. First, because you have to concentrate when you eat one to appreciate its flavour. It is not brash or showy; it can be musky or buttery, even faintly tropical with echoes of mango or lychee. Second, we should love it for its shape. Goodness knows why women think being pear-shaped is bad: look at those smooth, round curves. Aren't you just dying to sink your teeth into them? Lastly, the pear is very amenable. I hesitate to say this because it slightly belittles the pear. There it is, a thing of great beauty, capable of featuring in nursery rhymes (haven't you always wanted to see a nut tree that could only bear a silver nutmeg and a golden pear?), and I am exalting it for its usability.

But there is no fruit I cook more at this time of year. Even unripe ones can be coaxed into mouth-filling deliciousness with heat and sugar. Pears poached in red wine, despite being a long-standing dinner-party stalwart, are a triumph of simplicity (there's a reason why some dishes become clichés). It works because the flesh takes well to distinctive flavours. A compote of pears with white wine, sugar, lemon and rosemary works beautifully too, or try a sweet wine with star anise and cinnamon. Baking is good as well. Even pears that have little flavour are transformed when baked with butter, brown sugar and a slosh of assertive alcohol. Alternatively, scoop out the core and fill the gap with mincemeat, crushed ginger biscuits mixed with chocolate and an egg yolk, or raisins soaked in sweet sherry. And don't forget savoury dishes, too. Pork and duck love a bit of pear, a more subtle partner than apple.

So keep sitting up at night to wait for the moment when your pears are perfectly ripe. But cook them, too. They're one of the best friends you can have in the kitchen.

Pear and Chocolate Tart

You do need pears with a good flavour for this as they have to stand up to the chocolate. They also need to be ripe.

Hard ones will never become tender in the time it takes the filling to set. Instead of the usual almonds I've used ground hazelnuts. It makes it more autumnal, as does the dark-brown sugar.

Serves 8-10

2 tbsp cocoa powder
210g plain flour
150g cold unsalted butter, cubed
75g icing sugar
Pinch of salt
1 egg yolk
1 tbsp very cold water (if necessary)

For the filling:

125g butter, softened
100g soft dark-brown sugar
2 large eggs
125g ground hazelnuts
185g dark chocolate, broken in pieces
4 ripe pears
3 tsp caster sugar
Icing sugar, for sifting (optional)

Put the cocoa powder, flour and butter into a processor and whizz until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs.

Add the sugar and salt and whizz again. Now add the egg yolk and process again – the mixture should come together in a ball, but if it doesn't use a little water. Wrap in clingfilm and put in the fridge for about 40 minutes.

Roll out the pastry on a surface dusted lightly with icing sugar and use it to line a 25cm loose-bottomed tart tin. Put it in the freezer for 20 minutes to firm up.

This helps to stop the pastry shrinking during cooking. Put crumpled greaseproof paper into the tin and fill with baking beans. Put in an oven preheated to 200ºC/gas 6 and bake for 15 minutes. Remove and leave to cool.

Turn down the oven to 180ºC/gas 4. To make the filling beat the butter and brown sugar until soft.

Gradually add the eggs, then stir in the hazelnuts.

Melt the chocolate in a bowl set over a pan of simmering water. Leave to cool a little then stir into the egg and nut mixture. Fill the part-cooked pastry case with this.

Peel, halve and core the pears, then set them on top of the filling with the small end in the middle (you may find you only have room for seven rather than eight halves). Sprinkle some caster sugar on the pears so that they glaze a little during cooking. Bake in the oven for 40 for 45 minutes. The tart is ready when you can feel with your finger that the centre is just set.

Leave the tart to cool a little before removing it from the tin. It's nice warm or at room temperature. You can leave it as it is or sift a light dusting of icing sugar over it. Serve with cream or crème fraîche.

Heaven and Earth

I've played a bit fast and loose with tradition here. This is based on a German recipe ? Himmel und Erde ? which is usually made with potatoes and apples and is eaten with black pudding. I also love a Dutch dish, Hot Lightning, which contains apples, pears and potatoes fried with sugar, bacon and onions. This is a fusion of the two. Serve with sausages, fried black pudding, or as is. It's a good autumnal supper, lovely with a watercress salad or some lightly cooked cabbage.

Serves 6

1kg floury potatoes, peeled and cut into chunks
60g butter
½ tbsp groundnut or sunflower oil
2 medium onions, sliced
250g smoked streaky bacon cut into lardons
250g apples, halved and cored
500g pears, halved and cored
1 tsp granulated sugar (optional)

Boil the potatoes in salted water until tender. Drain and mash coarsely (it should be really lumpy and rustic) with a third of the butter. Season and keep warm. Put another third of the butter and all the oil in a frying-pan and add the onion and bacon. Cook briskly until the onions are soft.

Cut the apples and pears lengthways into slices about 1cm thick. Add to the onion and bacon and toss together. Add the last bit of butter and cook over a medium heat until all is soft and golden. Season well.

Stir in the sugar (use less if you like, or none at all), and cook a little more until everything starts to caramelise a bit. Divide the potatoes between six plates and top with the fruit, bacon and onion mixture. I like a little chopped parsley or sage on it, too.

Whiskey and Honey Baked Pears with Cinnamon Cream

Nothing could be simpler, but these make a perfect dessert after supper or Sunday lunch.

Serves 4

4 underripe pears
Juice of 2 oranges and the grated zest of 1
150ml whiskey
About 6 tbsp runny honey

For the cream

250ml double or whipping cream
2 tbsp soft light-brown sugar
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
¼ tsp vanilla extract

Halve the pears but don't peel or core them. Put in a gratin dish and pour over the orange juice, zest and whisky. Drizzle over the honey. Put in an oven preheated to 190ºC/gas 5 and bake until tender, basting every so often. If your pears are very hard this can take an hour. If they are only a little underripe they will cook in about 30 minutes. Test with the tip of a knife. If they've had a long cooking time you may be low on juice. If this happens just add some more whiskey and orange juice at the end.

Whip the cream until it forms soft folds. Stir in the other ingredients and taste. Add a little more sugar if it needs it.

Serve two halves of pear per person with the cream.

© Stella magazine/The Sunday Telegraph