Tag Archives: Peaches

Crisp-topped baked peaches

It’s two years to the day since I moved into this apartment. Two years. And I only just found out we have a peach tree.

A couple weeks ago, my landlord knocked down an old fence in the backyard, and there it was. Not a big tree, and maybe a little scrawny, but baubled like a Christmas tree with small yellow peaches. My neighbor Jess and I greedily picked as many as we could reach, and squirreled them away. I ate a fair number of them standing over the sink, but then this blog post popped up in my email. So I made baked peaches. And oh my goodness.

These were easily my dream summer dessert. For starters, the simplicity is stunning: pitted peaches, topped with a crumbly mix of nuts and brown sugar and butter, baked until they’re soft and caramelized. The only real work involved is pitting peaches and chopping nuts. No peeling, no dicing, no flour, no oats. But even beyond that, this is one of those odd alchemical recipes whose ingredients turn into something more than their sum. The peaches become tender but hold onto their skins, and the sugar-bound nuts give the flesh of the fruit a deep resinous sweetness. Each peach half is its own self-contained portion, just intense enough and sweet enough to satisfy. We ate our peaches with plain Greek yogurt, which was just about perfect: a shock of dairy coolness against the hot sweet fruit and crumbly nuts.

You could easily do this with nectarines instead of peaches; choosing freestone fruits will make pitting and halving much easier. The most important thing is color: use yellow peaches or nectarines, not white ones. You want that faint sourness and light pucker from the yellow fruit, to balance the treacly sugar and fatty nuts. Plus, the yellow flesh looks heartbreakingly pretty in the pan.

crisp-topped baked peaches

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Ice ice baby

Happy Fourth of July! Looks like summer has finally arrived, and with a vengeance. It is HOT, you guys.

I love summer, but getting through these days usually involves a little suffering. Yesterday I went outside for a half-hour trip to the farmer’s market, and spent the rest of the morning with sweat pooled in my hair and dripping slowly down my temples. I went over to Kate’s place for a visit, and her two dogs were huffing and puffing and panting like I’ve never seen them do before. It was mighty tempting to flop down on the floor and pant right along with them.

So what’s a girl to do, when the sky is unfathomable blue but the sun is scorching?

Make granita, obviously.

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