Peaches remind me of warm summer days from my childhood when the days stretched in endlessly and trees and bushes offered all sorts of just snacks. I used to climb trees just to pick peaches and then sit in the trees eating the fruit and letting the juice drip down. There was never any time nor need to wash the peaches, just pick, wipe and enjoy. To this day I have been known to sit and eat three or four peaches as a meal and be satisfied and happy.
Beloved went to market and came back with a massive amount of peaches which were, as he put it, econimical to buy. Or as I’d say, on sale, really good sale price too. It surprised me a bit because it was more peaches than I could eat in one sitting and Beloved is apparently not a peach lover. I know, sometimes I too wonder if he is human. Who can’t love a ripe, sweet, juicy peach I ask?
But Beloved adores peach jam, pie, crumble and Dutch babies. In other word if the peach has been cooked they are okay in Beloved’s books. Clearly that was his plan when he bought the box of peaches as he put them down and asked for pie, or crumble or even crazy peach biscuits southern style. He held up a package of prosciutto and asked for some to be wrapped around peach wedges for grilling.
So I will be up to my elbows in peaches, and I won’t comment on Beloved stealing a few slices here and there once they have had the skin removed! Now if someone can teach the man how to climb a tree…