Americans just don’t seem to get fruit soups like my Scandinavian relatives did. They’re a wonderful expression of autumn when you have a surfeit of fresh pears and apples in the store. Today, I was so busy with moving my 92-year-old Mom from the third floor to the second floor, shopping and getting in one last bike ride on a gorgeous fall day that I didn’t want to mess with much cooking while getting ready for some company and trick-or-treaters. But I did have several Bartlett pears that needed to be used, and a half dozen slices of bacon in the meat drawer. Voila! Dinner. I guessed it might be a winner when one of the neighbors, taking her brood around for treats, remarked on the heavenly aroma eminating from the kitchen. I knew it was a winner when my family was asking for ‘seconds’. It went very well with simple grilled cheese sandwiches on whole grain bread.