When I moved to the South two years ago, I was excited by the promise of wonderful southern peaches. While over the years I had eaten delicious northern-grown peaches from the nearby orchards in Bedford County, Pennsylvania, the lure of the southern peach was undeniable. Two years in the South, and I have had some absolutely succulent peaches. Fragrant and juicy, they were the fulfillment of peach-scented dreams.
Unfortunately, these heady orbs were not the fulfillment of southern-grown peaches: they were trucked in from California. Southern peaches suck.
Georgia, South Carolina, it doesn’t matter. I haven’t eaten one that didn’t remind me of a hard, flavorless apple with hair. When peach season arrives, I have learned my lesson and now choose to pay the extra price-per-pound for the California peaches with flavor.
When I find good peaches, I purchase enough to satisfy my pent-up peach cravings for days and days at a time. If the peaches are still good when I return to the grocery store, bloated with sweet peach juice, I buy enough to make a pie. If you read my post on blueberry pie then you are well aware of my love of fruit pies. Summer is the time for most good fruit pies (except for the autumnal apple and mincemeat pies), so permit me another post on that most fleeting of summertime desserts.
Recipes and step-by-step directions after the jump…