Every summer, whenever Mom and I go to one of the small-town farmers’ markets in our neighbourhood, she pulls out a pot when we get back to her house and sets a simple syrup to simmering. She doesn’t ask for help — her vision is failing, but she knows her way around her bungalow — so I sit at the counter, eat a peach and watch, peach juice invariably dripping down my chin.
“Here, Mom, sit down and have a fresh peach, don’t you think they’re best fresh?” I say, but she always laughs and carries on. She blanches the fruit, then tells me she just needs to put a few peaches by for the winter. Peaches are out of season right now, it being February and deepest winter, but my canny mom pulls little bags of frozen peaches in syrup from her freezer every time she has my sourdough waffles for breakfast.
Truth is, freezing peaches is something my mom and I disagree on. She does; I don’t. I have vivid memories of eating a perfect peach one morning at sunrise under the bluest sky in an orchard in the Similkameen Valley in southeastern B.C. I really don’t want to settle for anything but the perfect peach, and I’m willing to wait. She has vivid memories of going without fruit as a child of the Depression, and she doesn’t want to go without again. I’ve chosen to eat in season; she’s chosen to put summer fruit by for winter. There’s no right or wrong, just the fact that our lives have been different, and our palates are too.
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Summer brings a cherry jubilee
Seeing this year’s fresh Okanagan cherries being unpacked at the local farmers’ market, in the wake of a disastrous 2024 growing season in that region of British Columbia, was a magical moment.
I have put my share of peaches by for winter, though, looking for ways to preserve that incredible summer flavour even if the texture can’t be saved or reproduced. Like Mom, I’ve put peaches in jars of gently seasoned syrup, but I’ve also put peaches into chutney, jam, pickle brine and, most recently, barbecue sauce. I’ve served fresh and canned peaches in cobbler, crisp, crêpes, pie, galette, clafouti, melba; in sangria or muscat or prosecco; in salads of all sorts, grilled and sauced with raspberry compote; flambéed with booze; on or in ice cream or sorbet or gelato; in and under and on cakes of many mixtures; poached in red or white wine; on sweet or savoury kebabs; in vinaigrette, summer pudding, fritters, beignets and doughnuts and bread pudding; caramelized with caramel sauce, in slurpies and smoothies; grilled on crostini… so, which peach dish is your pleasure? I love them all. I just happen to prefer my peaches plain, unadorned, off the tree. But on the Canadian Prairies, that’s just not an option, so I bless those orchardists who drive across the flatland to sell their fruits at our small towns’ farmers’ markets.
In food literature, peaches are the centrepoint of a moving book, Epitaph for a Peach by David Mas Masumoto. A second-generation California peach grower, Masumoto tells the tale of trying to save the heirloom Sun Crest peach trees on his family farm. In the telling, he also reveals the inherent challenges of being a small-scale sustainable farmer. Reading this book made me more appreciative of the perfect peach than ever, and when I’ve had my fill of fresh fruit out of hand in summer, I make something out of it for February. But as a poet, I appreciate that peaches are also a fabulous metaphor for the fleeting nature of life. So first we eat our peaches, however best pleases us, then we put the extra jars in the pantry for later.
Lemon, peach and ginger chutney
Make this when you have a jar of peaches in the cupboard going begging. It will remind you of summer. Serve this as a spicy garnish for vegetable curries, grilled fish and roasted fowl or meats. To use as a barbecue baste, up the spice quotient with some dried chilies, then coarsely puree the finished chutney.
Makes about 6 cups.
- 2 lemons, finely sliced
- ¼ cup grated ginger root
- 1 Tbsp. coriander seed
- 1 stick cinnamon, broken
- 1 whole star anise
- 2 cups light brown sugar
- 1 cup raisins or dried cranberries
- 2 cups apple cider vinegar
- 4 cups finely chopped canned peaches
- salt and cayenne to taste
Combine all ingredients except the peaches, salt and cayenne in a heavy-bottomed pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer until the chutney thickens. Stir frequently to prevent sticking. Add the peaches and simmer briefly. Transfer to a large glass jar and store in the fridge.
