
Those of you who are as in love with Joanna Newsom’s music as I am get it. It was that time of year that straddles summer and fall, when my CSA gives us the last of summer’s peaches and plums along with early fall pear varieties like Red Clapp, Bartlett, and Seckel. And the opportunity to allude to a good song while handling food is one I can rarely pass up (it happens in my mind when the Simon & Garfunkel herbs go into something, out loud when John sees summer or winter savory and iTunes is within reach, and don’t even get me started on the teaches of peaches).
After a long day of work, the thought of chilling and rolling out pie dough or even making biscuit batter to scoop on top of this fruit combo seemed like too much in terms of time and how big of a production I wanted it to be. Mark Bittman to the rescue: fruit gratin (with Greek yogurt instead of sour cream and amaretto instead of vanilla extract). I couldn’t get the top to brown because my baking dish explicitly says “No Broiler” on the bottom. And to be really honest, this would’ve been better with some kind of crust or crumble or batter surrounding it. Oh well, you really can’t have it all sometimes.
Next up: clam, crab, cockle, cowrie risotto?

Don’t let the fact that this is frozen yogurt mislead you. It is rich and thick and coats your mouth the way ice cream does.
5 medium (about the size of a tennis ball) very ripe yellow peaches
1/3 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups plain whole-milk Greek yogurt (or yogurt you strained yourself)
a squeeze of lemon juice
Peel peaches and cut them up into chunks. In a small saucepan, combine water, peaches, and their pits (cooking them helps loosen the very last bits of fruit and maybe it contributes some kind of faint almond-like flavor?… didn’t hurt to try). Bring to a simmer and cook for 15 minutes. Turn off heat and add sugar, stirring it until it’s all dissolved. Let cool, then puree (it’s okay if there are a few chunks of fruit bobbing around). Chill peach puree for several hours or overnight.
Whisk peach puree into yogurt. Add lemon juice. Freeze in an ice cream machine. Yum.

Goodbye summer (vacation), hello graduate school. I’m savoring the last of the season’s summer produce while I attempt to keep up with all my weekly reading so I don’t feel like a complete doofus in class. These free-form tarts were fun to make, even though it is tempting for me to get all kinds of OCD with the arrangement of the vegetable/fruit pieces. I made a savory ricotta one (followed Smitten Kitchen’s recipe, minus egg glaze and with the addition of tomatoes, and my basil was purple) and a sweet one with some mediocre fruit that I couldn’t stand to waste but also couldn’t stand to eat on its own (same crust as the savory one, with a honey-ricotta mixture, peaches, and sliced almonds were added but not photographed at the end). I also kind of over-filled them, so the crust wasn’t as folded-over. Leftovers were excellent snacks on a 6-hour flight to Tab and Christine’s beautiful and fun-filled wedding (congrats guys!).

Forget cobbler. Instead of waiting for a dish full of fruit and dough to get all gooey and hot in the oven, I sandwiched some peach slices between leftover buttery breakfast biscuits with homemade honey-bourbon ice cream and a smear of Jocelyn’s tart blueberry jam. Incidentally, this was a break from learning about fat metabolism.

This peach salsa staring you in the face qualifies as good picnic fare (in my book) because it meets the following criteria:
- It does not have to be eaten hot or cold, so it’ll taste fine all afternoon (and I do not want to be responsible for nasty bouts of foodborne illness).
- It can be made ahead of time, and keeps well.
- It is totally safe for vegetarians, vegans, the lactose intolerant, and people who are allergic to nuts or wheat (and fine, it’s fresh and nutritious).
- The ingredients are cheap, especially when in season.
I happen to have two additional go-to picnic contributions that meet these criteria: hummus, and those summer rolls too.
recipe:
5 roma tomatoes*
3 medium peaches
1/4 of a medium red onion
1 serrano pepper, seeds removed if you can’t stand the heat
juice of 1/2 a lime
salt to taste
a fistful of cilantro
Finely chop all ingredients that need chopping, then add lime and salt to taste. Alternatively, puree everything in a blender or food processor for a more liquid salsa. Or you could do like I did: use both methods, then combine the batches for the best of both worlds. Serve with tortilla chips. This stuff is also good as a topping for grilled fish or chicken, or nachos with black beans and lots of Monterey Jack cheese (exactly what I did with the leftovers).
* There’s been a story in the news about late blight, a fungus that attacks tomatoes and potatoes, and other members of the nightshade family of plants. (One article here, and Chef Dan Barber’s take on the situation here.) This summer, the fungus has spread all over the Northeast, and it’s sounding pretty bad for farmers and organic tomato lovers alike. Farmer Deb from my CSA recently announced that we will not be getting any tomatoes this year. This is seriously disappointing, because the cherry tomatoes we usually get each summer are seriously delicious. For this salsa, I purchased conventional tomatoes from Whole Foods.