Some days I wake up and check the news (note to self: maybe just stop doing this), and it feels as if the entire world is being dismantled, piece by piece. This is most certainly not a bad thing entirely—there are so many customs, rules, institutions, and systems that don’t serve us well. But it’s as if we’ve pressed pause on the world and started pulling everything apart, erasing some things altogether and re-building others and questioning every single thing in between. I have a niggling sense that no longer can you assume anything will carry on as it has been, both in a big picture sense and in our own little lives.
This, of course, is not at all true. But the overwhelming sensation of the ground that was once steady now shifting precariously beneath your feet is a bit scary. Did we like the ground we walked on? Not always. But we did know what it felt like to step firmly upon it. Now we’re having to get our sea legs, so to speak. (Sidebar: What an apt analogy given the intermittent but intense bouts of nausea I’ve experienced over the past 4 weeks; as it turns out, having a baby can do some weird things to your body.)
What can you do when your awareness of the precariousness of it all gets too heightened?
Well, you have a few options. Weep uncontrollably on a street corner (that’s a good one). Eat homemade sesame crackers while watching old seasons of the Bachelorette (recommended). Eat too many homemade sesame crackers while watching your third episode of an old Bachelorette season instead of going to bed (not recommended). Call someone to talk about it (usually not useful unless it’s your mom). Write about it (we’ll see how this helps).
What else? Take a bike ride and cut down a different route than the one you’re used to, careening below the leafy elm trees that line the cemetery and banking a sharp left at the corner next to the lavender fields.
Pour yourself a gin and tonic (after 5 PM, highly recommended; anytime before 4 PM, very much not recommended).
Make some plans, even if they’re of the small and concrete and short-term variety. Plans give the days and weeks some form and structure and shape.
So for the week ahead, I’m planning to cook cheesy baked pasta with cauliflower. I’ve been listening to old episodes of the Bon Appetit foodcast (which, I suppose, is no longer?); they were discussing this dish which sounded like a perfect make-on-Sunday-eat-for-two-nights sort of situation. You toss cooked pasta with cauliflower florets, three cheeses (cheddar, mozzarella, and Parmesan), cream, and lots of black pepper, then bake it all. They add cherry tomatoes, which I plan to skip, and I’m going to add a layer of parsley and panko over the top of it all for a crispy-crunchy texture.
This morning I came across a Melissa Clark recipe which sounded good to me too: roasted chicken thighs with peaches, basil, and ginger. You spread everything on a sheet pan and bake it all for 20 minutes. How easy is that? There’s a splash of sherry, some black pepper, and garlic as well which I imagine would offset the sticky-sweetness of the cooked peaches nicely.
And best of all, peach season is almost here—a thrilling development indeed, especially in this off time of, well, very little in the way of newness. Stone fruit is best eaten ripe and as is, warm from sitting in the sun at the farmers’ market stand. If you decide you want to do something more with it, here are some ideas:
Consider the grill! Not just for meat and vegetables, as it turns out. Halve peaches and grill them quickly over very high heat (cut side down). Serve warm with vanilla ice cream.
My mom used to make an incredible dessert, which she hasn’t done in years and years (reminder to request this!): she’d pile sliced peaches into a deep glass Pyrex bowl. I don’t think she added anything, although maybe some sugar and flour and vanilla, in the style of a peach pie filling. But don’t overdo the sugar! She’d spread a very thick layer of whipped cream on top and then sprinkle a generous amount of brown sugar on top of the cream. The entire thing went into the freezer until frozen solid. Just before serving, she’d pop it under the broiler until the sugar started to melt and crackle, but the whipped cream would stay frozen, although beginning to soften at the edges. Actually brilliant.
There’s a little juice place in Vermont that I love (although they call themselves a “modern apothecary” which quite frankly I can’t say with a straight face). Of all their very excellent, very creative smoothies, my favorite is “the golden”. It’s a blend of frozen peaches, coconut milk, turmeric, plain yogurt, ginger, black pepper, and dates.
These peach shortbread bars from Smitten Kitchen are incredible. You press half of a quick shortbread dough into a pan, top with sliced peaches, then crumble the remaining dough on top and bake.
My at-home approximation of an old NYC standby: the “La Brea” fruit salad from west~bourne in Soho. Mix labneh (or full-fat Greek yogurt) with tahini and honey. Use a spoon to dollop a generous swipe on a plate, then top with sliced peaches, fennel fronds, and tiny bits of crunchy sesame candy.
Peach scones! Peach muffins used to be my go-to (using this recipe), but the jammy baked fruit yields a soft on soft situation; scones are craggier and sturdier and a better canvas for the peaches. I was wary of adding such a juicy fruit to scone dough, in case it introduced too much liquid. To avoid this, I roast the peaches briefly ahead of time which encourages them to give up some of that liquid and also intensifies their flavor. It’s an extra step, sure, but worth it. Also, this particular dough is firmer than most, as it uses sour cream instead of milk, so you can afford to introduce a bit more liquid with the fruit.
You can also skip the roasting step and just add the chopped peaches directly to the scone dough. Just handle the dough gently and don’t worry about it all looking like a bit of a mess—it’s rustic and they’ll turn out beautifully, I promise.
Roasted Peach Scones
Adapted from King Arthur Flour
2 medium-to-large peaches, peeled and diced
2 cups (240g) all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup (67g) granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1 tablespoon baking powder
6 tablespoons (85g) very cold butter
2 eggs
1/3 cup (74g) sour cream
1/2 teaspoon almond extract (optional)
raw sugar, for sprinkling
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Line a sheet pan with parchment paper and spread the peaches on it in an even layer. Roast the peaches for 15 minutes, stirring once halfway through. When they’re finished, remove from the oven and reduce the temperature to 375 degrees.
While the peaches roast, whisk together the flour, salt, granulated sugar, nutmeg, and baking powder.
Cut in the butter using a fork or your fingertips and work it into the dry ingredients until it’s in irregular pea-sized lumps.
Whisk together the eggs, sour cream, and almond extract (if using). Add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir until the dough just begins to come together.
Add the roasted peaches and using your hands, gently press the dough together so it’s cohesive but don’t overmix.
Use a large scoop or 1/4-cup measuring cup to scoop mounds of dough onto a parchment-lined sheet.
Sprinkle the tops with raw sugar and bake for about 20 to 25 minutes, or until golden brown around the edges. Remove from the oven and let cool fully.