“Do I dare to eat a peach?” One of St. Louis’ favorite sons, poet T.S. Eliot, included this line in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. We think you should definitely dare to do so, with as much reckless abandon as humanly possible.
Peaches have appeared by the boxful at local farmers’ markets, in all their fuzzy, sun-kissed splendor. The season will last for a few weeks, giving you plenty of time to load up. Don’t be daunted by a hard texture; just sit them, unwashed, on the counter where they’ll continue to ripen over the course of a few days. We like them best straight out of the refrigerator, but be advised to wear a short-sleeved shirt as you should be prepared to face the inelegant byproduct of juice dripping down your elbow.
If cook them you must, search out pie and cobbler recipes. Best are those which combine the luscious fruit with a subtle dust of cinnamon. For a boozy jolt, macerate the peeled jewels in bourbon, then use them in any sweet application. Or after halving and pitting them, toss them with a smidge of brown sugar and place, cut-side down, on a low-heat grill for a few minutes. Try out peach preserves, barbecue sauce, ice cream and sangria. Juts a few bites of these sweet, juicy gems and you might be inclined to compose a few lines of poetry yourself.
This article appears in Jul 1-31, 2011.