I am posting this a little early as I will not have Internet access this weekend.
Monday is the birthday of a very special Peach. Now, this Peach is not a fan of birthdays and I know that this one will not be easy for her, but I would like to say a thing or two about peaches. I love peaches, they are the quintessential summer fruit. After a long winter of apples and oranges the peach is a delightful treat. Once upon a time watermelon symbolized summer, but those days are gone. Watermelon is available all year long, as are strawberries.
The peach remains the lone survivor as the true symbol of summer and the fleeting pleasures contained within the season.
In my house there exists a mini battle over the peach. Some of my family prefer to eat their peaches while they are still hard and they slice them into pieces with a knife.
I hope that I have not offended the sensibilities of any of my readers as I can barely write these words without my hand trembling in indignation. If you truly love peaches you know that they must be eaten ripe, when they are at the peak of their sweet flavour and their juicy texture. A green peach will pucker your mouth and dry up your saliva. A ripe peach will longingly be remembered on the coldest, windiest day of winter when a mere banana can offer no comfort.
A ripe peach will make the best pie in the world. Add some vanilla ice-cream and you can attain nirvana. Hard peaches make lousy pies. I know this for a fact as my dad told me so.
So Georgia Peach rejoice in your birthday as you continue to ripen and become more flavourful. You know, Challah only gets hard and moldy with age.