All posts filed under: Peaches

Peering down the Pie Hole ~ Summer Peach Pie

For a period of time, I lived in the attic loft of a building we operated as a rental house. It was a great space – peaceful – quiet – meditative – that is, until early summer. Because that’s when my next door neighbor’s peach tree produced fruit. And, along with everyone else on the block that helped themselves to the low hanging fruit, the residents of the mechanical chase just above my ceiling squirreled away as many of the fruit and pits that they could stuff through the narrow attic vent. For the next three months, without fail, they would roll the pits from one end of the chase, down the entire length of the loft, and back again. And late into the night they would run and scatter their booty, then spend hours rounding them all up again. I swear they had a rodent bowling alley up there. __________________________________________________   Peach pie is just one of those things you have to get just right for it to be good. Too much thickener, and you have …

Curb Market Crawl – Back to the Peach (Part 2)

So.. peaches. I never really had a nickname growing up. I don’t know why. I guess my own name was odd enough for the times. I tried calling myself Steve (my middle name) for a while but it never stuck. In the mirror I just didn’t look like a Steve, I didn’t feel like a Steve… and I ended up giggling uncontrollably when people eventually began calling me Steve. I abandoned the whole idea after a time and just stuck to my christian name – Toby, it was memorable enough. My mom’s family is rife with those quirky little terms of endearment that only children can understand… my aunts were Bootsy, Mott and Mutt. There were a heap of JW’s & JV, JR’s and Jr, and an uncle they called Taa…. Gotta love the South. I have a wonderful friend. Actually, I have several, but this one is special. She calls her son Peach… and always has. And it’s not in the Southern ” Be a peach and get me a coca cola” sense.. just peach… …

Curb Market Crawl – Back to the Peach (Part One)

Inevitably, in dealing with local farm markets there’s going to be a couple of repeats in what’s available every season and what I choose to buy. Occasionally, something new pops up… like the parsnips. But more times than not, it’s the same actors in the play every season. Just think of it like a cheesy dinner theater. Peaches are quite possibly my favorite fruit – so I always buy more than is prudent – and that means I bought two large baskets of them… at $8.00 each. In case you’re wondering… that’s a lot of peaches. This year’s variety of choice are Flavor Rich Peaches from R&A Orchards. in Ellijay, GA. Flavor Rich are an early season Cling peach ripening in early may through to mid June in slightly cooler climates. Characterized by dense fuzz, and rich, deep yellow flesh with swatches of blush into the nipple end of the fruit. Since the pit stay well embedded in the fruit, you’ll leave a fair amount attached to the pit when they’re sliced – making this …

Copper River Salmon – The Big Thaw

A couple of weeks ago, as part of the Fresh Catch Crew, the super folks at Copper River sent me a new box o’ salmon. It was a frozen whole frozen side of  sockeye salmon from the Prince William Sound. Prince William Sound A Sound is a large body of the ocean located between two bodies of land. The Prince William Sound is located on the Southern coast of Alaska – bordered by the Kenai Pennisula on the west, and the Montague and Hinchinbrook  Barrier Islands to the south offering protection from the rugged Gulf of Alaska. This optimum location provides isolated, pristine, glacial pure water into the gulf that supports a healthy, sustainable salmon run. I’ve already extolled the beauty and glory of sockeye salmon… many times – so I’ll dispense with that this time… a little. But – like I said – what I got this time was a frozen side. Here’s the thing with frozen fish. Given the choice (and available cash), I’ll buy fresh fish. Not that there’s anything wrong with frozen – I just prefer it that …

Peach Butter Bingo #3 – Tie One On

Bourbon ~ Peach Butter BBQ Sauce Regionally speaking, I’m not a sweet BBQ sauce kind of guy. I like ’em hot and tart. Nothing really beats a good North Carolina vinegar sauce… or that insanely mustard-y sauce from Carey Hilliard’s in Savannah (are they even open anymore? …  I really need to get down there, see what’s shakin’ in the Port City… and poke around in The Church Cook’s Kitchen while I’m at it.) So, needless to say, this sauce really isn’t my cup of tea…so to speak… but since pork, bourbon and peaches really do a number on the taste buds, I just couldn’t resist trying the peach butter in a sweet and spicy sauce. If you’re a fan of Kansas City Style sauces – this’ll be right up your alley. It’s been raining off and on the past two days here at Turtle Creek. Since I’m not a fan of grilling in the rain, I wanted to cut down on the cooking time and amp up the tenderizing since these ribs wouldn’t be slow cooking …

Millions of Peaches

Even though I’m still working my way through the pile – o – peaches I bought a while ago… I bought some more…. I can’t help it and it really wasn’t entirely my fault. You can blame R & A Orchards in Ellijay… or rather, I can… and will. With 5 different varieties of sweet, fuzzy globes growing in their very own orchards – the air is saturated with eau de pêchers.. and it pulls me in every time. I just have to go in and rub my hands over the velvety little domes. Think of it as a million little baby heads – all bathed in peach shampoo. In the South, fresh, tree-ripened peaches scream summer, and when we were kids peaches and cream was the quintessential peach dessert. However, too many friends are lactose intolerant so cool peaches swimming in sweetened heavy cream is out of the question. I thought I could sub out the heavy cream with Coconut Cream (since the fat content ends up being about the same) and transporting the …

Indignation – and a Gnashing of Teeth

It’s a retraction… It’s an apology…. It’s putting things right. Good Lord!  doing this makes me feel like I’m in a bad Food Network episode of Quantum Leap. Friday morning came around and began with…. “That post…. you didn’t tell the story right… It was Clara’s peach cobbler, not Mrs. Corn’s” “I know, I couldn’t remember which.” “And… that isn’t my peach cobbler “ “It wasn’t your recipe… I didn’t say it was.” “But… people will think it’s mine..” “It just says  Peach Cobbler… it doesn’t say it’s yours. And besides… Yours isn’t written down anywhere. And it really isn’t a cobbler anyway… it’s a slump.” “But…” “I’ll fix it.” So Began my day. Later, I get three emails telling me that it isn’t a cobbler… … I know… it’s a slump. Then a text conversation with my sister… “that isn’t mom’s cobbler” … I know… *Sigh* So, here we are. If you want to go back and edit the Curb Market Crawl – Just Peachy post yourself, I’ll give you the marking points. In …

Curb Market Crawl – Just Peachy

Believe it or not… when my folks married, my mom wasn’t much of a cook. Not that she wasn’t willing, she just hadn’t had a whole lot of practical experience… Clara or my grandmother did the lion’s share of the cooking. One of the first things in the kitchen she attempted was peach cobbler. Now, you probably should know at this point that mom is kind of driven when it comes to cooking. Every week for the better part of that first year of being the “Missus”, mom practiced on perfecting her in-law’s peach cobbler. Every week she’d trot out another cobbler… and every week they’d critique the effort. A little tart… too runny… too doughy…  not quite sweet enough… It was about a year before she felt that she had mastered that staple of southern desserts…. It was also about the same time that my dad informed her he never really cared for peach cobbler.  She never said…but I still wonder she hurled that final cobbler at him. I stopped off at B&A Orchards …