Earlier this summer, I witnessed the unholy mutilation of buckets of beautiful Georgia peaches. Succulent orbs were mutilated and mashed in order to produce nauseatingly acidic peach gazpacho and impossibly acrid and soggy mustard peach crumble . . . yes, mustard crumble.
Since that sad day in July, I have been loath to make anything that could conceivably distort the natural goodness of fresh produce. However, when our sweet neighbor brought over a bushel of peaches from her tree, I began to reconsider my self-inflicted moratorium on cooking/baking with peaches. I knew that--if left uncooked--the peaches would sit in our kitchen, inevitably maturing to the point where no one would deign to sink their teeth into the sweet, decaying flesh. These peaches would die a meaningless death! They would rot because I was too much of a coward to concoct an appropriate pyre.
The expectation of this pathetic demise was more than I could bear. So, after much consternation, I decided on a recipe. A recipe that would not only honor the peaches that neighbor brought us, but pay homage to the souls of those lost in the produce debacle of July—and all fruit that has ever died in vain!
For all those pining to properly commemorate the last peaches of summer, may I present:
Ginger Peach Crostata
Prep: 30 min Bake: 35 min Oven: 375°F
For the Crust:
1¼ cups flour
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
4 tablespoons sugar
4 to 5 tablespoons cold water
In a medium bowl, mix together dry ingredients. With your mixer on low, cut in butter or shortening. Once combined, add water--one tablespoon at a time--until dough becomes easily malleable. Line cookie sheet with either parchment paper or foil. Sprinkle sheet with flour. Roll out dough on cookie sheet until a large circle is formed (use a knife to clean up edges).
For the Filling:
¼ cup sugar
4 teaspoons flour
1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon cinnamon
3 tablespoons chopped crystallized ginger
3 cups sliced peaches
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 tablespoon chopped almonds
1 tablespoon sliced crystallized ginger
Milk (for brushing edges of crust)
Whipped Cream (for serving)
In a large bowl, stir together sugar, flour, nutmeg, ground ginger, cinnamon and crystallized ginger. Add peaches and lemon juice; toss until coated. Mound peach mixture in the center of the pastry dough, leaving about 2 inches on every side for folding. Using your fingers, fold the pastry dough up and over the peaches, pleating dough as necessary to lie flat against the peaches. Sprinkle center with almonds and sliced crystallized ginger. Brush edges of pastry with milk. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes (or until edges are golden brown) at 375°F. Serve warm (or cold) with a dollop of whipped cream.
Our family has been spoiled by numerous visits to a most remarkable B&B called The Log House Inn.
| The log house with popcorn drying outside. |
The owners are fourth generation farmers who moved a soon to be destroyed log house (circa 1795) to their farm. Strewn with APPLE orchards, raspberry bushes, popcorn stalks, Christmas trees, sunflowers and a pond, this place is the definition of dreamy.
Visitors wake to the aroma of pancakes wafting through the house, and enter the breakfast room to find a mountain of flapjacks, Ohio maple syrup, milk, tea, raspberries (harvested that morning) and heaps of BUTTER.
| Breakfast/family room at The Log House |
Last weekend, as we planned a trip to the mountains, we searched for a worthy Coloradan counterpart. Mom -- technically inept as she is -- decided the first Google listing was the best. Honestly, the name should have given us a hint. "Luxury Boutique Chateau B&B"? I mean, how many specialty lodgings can you fit into one name? Somehow she was sold on the snarky pitch: "you can find somewhere cheaper, but nowhere as nice." The proprietor's Inaccurate directions made the trip longer than it should have been, but we all hoped it would be worth it. However, when we saw our destination, a faux Victorian electric blue monstrosity, we knew it hadn't been.
| Icky, yucky, bad, fail so-called B&B in Winter Park, Colorado. Unfortunately, this view is preferable to the one you get during daylight. |
The owner's "tour" began with a look into the windowless family room--which looked much more like a nursing home than a cozy b&b--and culminated with a confused tale about the Russian mob. Supposedly, they had built the place, failed to pay taxes, sold it--and then fought the buyer in court because they hadn't actually handed over the deed. I don't remember how the current owners got the place. I don't think they ever told us.
Anyway, there was nothing boutique-ee or chateau-ee about it.
There were beds and a salty, sweaty breakfast.
I'm going on a B&B fast until I can get back to Ohio.
Mr. One can be very convincing. Especially in regard to the acquisition of fauna. I'm not really a pet person, and yet somehow our animal family is constantly expanding. Until last week, the count was about 60,002: a couple of yappy Doglets, and two hives of Italian honey bees. And now, Wilbert and Bach.
Seized with a fit of temporary insanity*, I, once again, succumbed to the collective adorableness of my husband and daughter (see prime example below). The result? This majestic pair of 30 cent goldfish. Who Princess H named all by herself. To whom she has become quite attached.
*You will find these to be a recurring theme in my life.
So attached, in fact, that Mr. One is scheming about how to take them home with us. His (very sincere!) suggestions include:
a) Checking them in our luggage
b) Putting them in a sippy cup
c) Hiding them in a ziplock baggie, worn on a string around his neck
We fly out tomorrow. Wish me luck.
If I find them irresistible, maybe the TSA folks will, too...?
And that's not even mentioning petrified animal remains.
This September, we took a family outing to the Denver Colosseum, which housed a prestigious amount of -- to keep it simple -- rocks. Mom, One, Two, and Four were able to peruse halls bedecked with as many glittering jewels as a heart could desire, and Brother Z, Baby H, and I were able to marvel at million year old horse teeth, perfectly preserved Priscacara liops, and exquisitely polished nautilus shells. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. No entry fee was required, we just had to fill in a short survey before entering the body of the expo, and as an added bonus, most of the vendors were selling their wares at wholesale prices. Needless to say, killings were made.
I initially posted an overwhelming ream of lovely pictures (they're easy to take when your subjects are as naturally photogenic as jewels and fossils. . . not to mention my human companions), but I was rightfully booed down by my wise sisters. Consequently, please enjoy a reduced collection of the gem show photos.
This September, we took a family outing to the Denver Colosseum, which housed a prestigious amount of -- to keep it simple -- rocks. Mom, One, Two, and Four were able to peruse halls bedecked with as many glittering jewels as a heart could desire, and Brother Z, Baby H, and I were able to marvel at million year old horse teeth, perfectly preserved Priscacara liops, and exquisitely polished nautilus shells. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. No entry fee was required, we just had to fill in a short survey before entering the body of the expo, and as an added bonus, most of the vendors were selling their wares at wholesale prices. Needless to say, killings were made.
I initially posted an overwhelming ream of lovely pictures (they're easy to take when your subjects are as naturally photogenic as jewels and fossils. . . not to mention my human companions), but I was rightfully booed down by my wise sisters. Consequently, please enjoy a reduced collection of the gem show photos.
*This claim may be 100% erroneous
What do you get when you cross 2 spools of ribbon, 1 spool of wire, the Rocky Mountains and 5 TD sisters?
Wedding decor! For $12.80! And not one of our weddings. Not that we wouldn’t be very pleased getting off spending less than 15 bucks on decorations. I would think that was rather thrilling. No, it was our adolescent partner in crime, Miss -- and now -- Mrs. L.
Rocky Mountain High!
To say we love Mrs. L’s family would be a drastic understatement. We have undergone numerous triumphs and trials in tandem, making the L’s more like the TD’s, expanded. Most of the L’s returned home just days before the wedding, so the TD sisters headed up to the L’s family oasis in the Colorado Rockies. Upon arrival, we weren’t sure what to do. There was wire and ribbon, but their home seemed deserving of more gorgeous decorations.
Aspen trees!
Two dozen aspen boughs, a spool of relatively fine wire, two spools of ribbon, sweat, et voila! Gorgeous decorations a la le sœur TD!
Mrs. F and Me, affixing aspens to the banister
Four, One and ALL that ribbon!
We did make one mistake. When it comes to food, don’t say no when you mean yes. They offered to feed us the night before and we said “of course not!”.
HUNGRY(!!!), but not quite done!
And they married happily. Here’s to ever after......................... and food :o)
We TDs are collectors. Rocks, quilts, books, hats -- you name it, and we've probably had at least a few (dozen) of them somewhere or sometime. Many of our collections are languishing in boxes or cupboards. And more than a few have been passed along or abandoned completely. But, though we may have short attention spans, we aren't idiots. We know a good thing when we've got it. And we realize that our most precious and satisfying collection is, indubitably, the amazing array of people we love. And, though many of you are subjected to the same kind of neglect currently endured by my long-defunct bunny collection, we have a hunch you somehow manage to love us, too.
Dear Readers, this blog represents a heartfelt attempt to remedy some of that neglect. We promise you'll hear something from us five days a week -- a small collection of the things that make us happy, keep us busy and bring meaning to our worlds. We hope it makes you smile.
The Top 5 Reasons We Started This Blog
5. We like to travel in packs, even online.
4. To memorialize all the fun and outlandish happenings, ideas, projects and progeny of our far-flung sisterly clan.
3. To publicly shame each other into keeping in better touch with our favorite peeps.
2. Oprah won't give us money to start our own magazine. Boo.
1. To make our brothers jealous.