The past few years we have traveled to Atlanta at the beginning of the summer and New Jersey at the end, enjoying family and friends and delicious peaches throughout the season.
And while this summer away from home has been filled with fun and family, it has been a summer without peaches. The crop had not quite arrived when we left in mid-July, and here in Minnesota the climate is too cold for that temperate fruit. Sure, the grocery stores are full of rock-hard specimens and promises that they will ripen in a day or two, perhaps in a paper bag, but the reality is often mushy and bland.
So, I have avoided the peaches. That is until the other day when I passed a display of Colorado peaches that looked genuinely promising. A little squeeze convinced me that these might not be too bad, and I took a chance and chose a half dozen. The next morning I was not disappointed-- they weren't the best peaches in the world, but they weren't awful, either, and they were my first peaches of the summer, and so I enjoyed them.
Later in the day, at another store, I couldn't resist a big pile of huge, Jersey-looking peaches, and yet again, a little squeeze gave me some encouragement that they might not be awful. Once again, I was not disappointed. Although far from the perfect pick-your-own peaches of my childhood, they were fine. A little cinnamon, a little sugar, a spoonful of tapioca pudding, and summer was really here at last.
And while this summer away from home has been filled with fun and family, it has been a summer without peaches. The crop had not quite arrived when we left in mid-July, and here in Minnesota the climate is too cold for that temperate fruit. Sure, the grocery stores are full of rock-hard specimens and promises that they will ripen in a day or two, perhaps in a paper bag, but the reality is often mushy and bland.
So, I have avoided the peaches. That is until the other day when I passed a display of Colorado peaches that looked genuinely promising. A little squeeze convinced me that these might not be too bad, and I took a chance and chose a half dozen. The next morning I was not disappointed-- they weren't the best peaches in the world, but they weren't awful, either, and they were my first peaches of the summer, and so I enjoyed them.
Later in the day, at another store, I couldn't resist a big pile of huge, Jersey-looking peaches, and yet again, a little squeeze gave me some encouragement that they might not be awful. Once again, I was not disappointed. Although far from the perfect pick-your-own peaches of my childhood, they were fine. A little cinnamon, a little sugar, a spoonful of tapioca pudding, and summer was really here at last.
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