It's been a good while since I was so incredibly excited about eating that I felt a little dizzy over it. Well, maybe not quite that long, the sweet potato pound cake certainly threw me for a loop and I made no less than four of them in the past week in attempts to curb my craving. Thankfully, I'm blessed with dozens of gracious people in my life who are more than willing to take them off my hands. I'd had my sights set on a recipe for Blueberry Lemon Pound Cake via my Aunt Trish, but it's been so blazin' hot the past few days I couldn't stand the thought of cranking the oven up to three-fifty just to have dessert. But then there were peaches.
But that's really sort of an understatement, these peaches were beautiful, the sort that makes you remember God creates eating as a pleasure for us and it's easiest to see that in the simple things - like a rosy cheeked peach. I hovered over the display, the icy air conditioning of the grocery store breezing down my back and raising up goosebumps, and inhaled their sweet, summery scent (queue light headed feeling of bliss). I ran my fingertips over one of them, rubbing their soft fuzzy skins against my palm and glancing behind my shoulder to see if anyone would notice if I'd stopped to brush it against my jawline. Don't ask - just file it under Brittany's Bizarre Eating Habits and move on. These peaches were destined for happiness: sliced and tossed with sugar then soused in white wine to mingle overnight in a cool and refreshing puddle of sweetness.
It was gorgeous outside and my new bamboo cutting board was in need of it's maiden voyage - so I leaned against the stone patio table for an hour or so, slowly slicing the flawless fruit, watching the wedges slide away from the whole, admiring the pink skin and bright yellow flesh before dusting them with a few tablespoons of sugar and insisting they take a swim in the wine. It was a full sensory experience, the smell of the peaches, the soft scraping sound of my knife against the cutting board, the occasional slice I tucked between my lips - or that I waited until I was certain nobody was watching to brush a fuzzy peach against my cheek, stopping to inhale under my nose. I'm grateful for life.
This past week has been chock full of new and old, particularly one incident where the old collides with the new in a way that leaves a girl feeling dizzy and wondering how the heck it all happened. It's the kind of thing that makes you smile but it stings a little at the same time but you're glad it happened anyway. I find something inside me bubbles up under such circumstances, and as a result I've got the new Canon Rebel T1i on the way (woop!) and I'm officially registered for a Middle Eastern Bellydance course come September. But that all seems to fade a little when you're toasting in the warm sun, remembering how incredibly faithful God is and savoring the flavor of something as easy as sliced peaches. Tomorrow has enough worries of its own.
I used a local wine called Terrapin White from Linganore Cellars, but any dry white wine will do. You won't want to use a sweet wine for this - the natural sweetness of the peaches and the extra boost of sugar will make it sweet enough. The trick here is patience, you can eat them after a half day or so, but the longer they soak the better they'll be. I snuck a few slices with breakfast this morning but that struck me as wrong somehow, I'm still waiting for the guilt to sink in. They were sweet and winey, the sugar from the peaches erased any hint of bitterness from the wine. I don't think that guilt is coming. The peaches will turn a soft, translucent shade of pale orange within a full twenty four hours or so and should be served very cold with a little extra juice poured over the top to be slurped up after the peaches are long gone.
Chilled Peaches in White Wine
Adapted from A Platter of Figs and Other Recipes, by David Tanis
8 firm-ripe peaches, yellow or white, scrubbed and rubbed dry
4 tablespoons white sugar (or more, to taste)
1 bottle (750 mL) dry white wine
Slice the peaches thinly, removing any bits of the pit that cling to the inside, I had about 16 slices from each peach. Toss the peaches gently with the sugar and then pour the full bottle of wine over the top. Toss gently again and cover with cellophane if you're not using an airtight container.
Allow the peaches to rest in the refridgerator for at least 12 hours and up to 48 before serving.