Eat a Peach
The smell of peaches always reminds me of my grandparents' old farmhouse in Oglethorpe County. Not the fakey-Bath-and-Body-Works peach scent of the mid-90s, but the perfume of a paper bag on the kitchen counter, full of sweet ripe fruit.
Last night I went with my parents to my grandparents' house here in town, the place they moved after they sold the farm. They don't even live there, now. They stay at a old-folks home in Jefferson, which is nice enough, for an old-folks home. The night I went they had peanut butter cookies and barbecue.
Now Grandma and Granddaddy's children are getting ready to sell the house--a sprawling 70s ranch that had carpet in the bathrooms and, get this, kitchen. Grandma knew the only way she was going to convince Granddaddy to move into town was to do something easy, so they bought the house from some friends, wood paneling and all. It's filled with most of the things that were in the house on the farm, with a few of my favorites notably missing (I think they gave away the marble tower maze--the kind you assembled in different configurations and then raced marbles through--when the last grandkid reached high school). Going through it last night, without them there, was very strange. The house is so quiet--with all that carpet, sound is muffled, unnaturally so. Mom wanted me to look at what was there, so I could speak for the things I wanted. My sister will be inheriting the beautiful old mantle clock--a real treasure. Grandma has asked me before what I want. I'm not really sure. I could tell you a few things--the old farm cart, the aforementioned marble maze tower, the hammock, some of their kitschy 60s Christmas ornaments--but those all went when the farm was sold, more than ten years ago. I do have my eye on a gorgeously intricate crocheted tablecloth that was made by one of my ancestors. I unfolded it and just stared, mezmerized by the mandalas and crosses and tesseracts unfolding across it.
As we were leaving, I picked up an ice cream scoop out of Grandma's old countertop spinner, filled with all manner of whisks and peelers and mashers and wirey, weird implements. I don't own one, and it's the perfect piece: the wooden handle is weathered and stripped; there's an extra screw put in to keep the handle from wobbling (no doubt the handiwork of my tinkering and famously frugal Granddaddy); and Grandma was using it before I was born. It's a keeper.
Tonight, I unfolded the flap on a paper bag full of peaches, and the smell reminded me of so many summers out on the farm. If I could have anything, I think I'd ask Grandma to make me a leaf crown (she had a special way to weave them together) like she used to when I was a kid. I think it's the perfect thing to wear while eating a peach.
I made this simple recipe from Martha Stewart's web site: Peaches with Honey Syrup. We ate them with ice cream (served from Grandma's scoop), which is an ultimate combination but next time, I would slice the peaches before serving them. We ended up just picking them up with our fingers and muching into them.
You will need:
- 4 ripe medium peaches
- 1/2 cup honey
- Using a sharp knife, lightly score bottom (not stem end) of each peach with hatch marks.
- Prepare an ice bath, and set aside. Fill a large (4-quart) saucepan with enough cold water to cover peaches; remove peaches. Over high heat, bring water to a boil, and blanch peaches about 1 minute (more if skin is not pulling away from peach). Using a slotted spoon, immediately transfer peaches to ice bath. Remove from ice water, and peel. Set aside peaches and skins.
- Reserve 4 cups of poaching liquid in pan; add skins and honey. Bring to a boil, and cook until reduced to 11/2 cups. Pour liquid through a sieve set over a bowl, and discard skins. Immediately spoon syrup over peaches, and serve. (Serves 4)
April
1 Comment
Email Article to Friend
Reader Comments (1)