Peaches and Memories

The air is still. The house is quiet. I sit in the living room watching the leaves outside slowly float to the ground.

It is a day of heaviness in the heart. Time stands still. And yet, as I watch the brown leaves fall, I am witness to the exact opposite: time, unstoppable, passes.

My grandfather passed away a couple days ago.

He was 88 years old. His life was long, full, and happy. He was ready to go.

But it is still hard to say goodbye.

I sit here, feeling the loss, and I find myself grasping for memories. I want to remember it all...the laughs, the games we used to play, how he used to call me his poupée, his princesse and twirl me around the living room.

As I let my mind wander, I am brought back to my childhood and all the summers I spent in the mountains of Switzerland where he and my grandmother lived. I remember him bringing fruit out, sitting on the porch together, feeling the bright summer sun warm my skin, and biting into the ripest most delicious peach I had ever tasted. I can still feel the tickle of the juice as it ran down my arm. We didn’t have peaches in Africa and I thought they were the best thing on earth.

I remember him asking me and my brother if we wanted to dance, a twinkle in his eye, and then laughing as we jumped up and down excitedly shouting “Oui! Oui, grand-papa! La Danse des Canards!” We would watch intently as he pulled out the old record and placed it on the record player, gently, allowing it to crackle a couple seconds before the music came on and filled the room. Then we would all quickly move to the middle of the living room and the three of us would start dancing around in a semi-crouched position, wiggling our butts, flapping our “wings,” and altogether being as utterly duck-like as was humanly possible. We sang at the top of our lungs, and my brother and I tried not to fall over laughing watching my grandfather do his best to be as silly as he could be. No matter how many times we danced to that song, I felt the same thrill and excitement every time.

Those are the memories I cling to...cheeks aching with laughter, deliciously sweet peaches, and endless bear hugs.

So this morning, searching for some comfort and the memory of childhood summers spent with grand-papa, I found myself in the kitchen baking peaches.

Gluten-Free Peach Muffins

In an attempt to make these muffins healthier, I replaced the oil with unsweetened applesauce. I was thrilled with the result! If you don’t have applesauce, you can use canola oil or melted butter instead.

1 ½ cups gluten-free flour mix of your choice
½ cup packed dark brown sugar
¾ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 eggs
½ cup unsweetened applesauce
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
3 small to medium peaches or 2 large ones (preferably organic as they are not peeled)

Preheat oven to 350ºF.

In a large bowl combine the flour, sugar, salt, baking soda, and cinnamon. Mix well until thoroughly combined. In a separate bowl mix the eggs with the applesauce, and vanilla extract.

Wash and dry the peaches. Cut them into slices and then cut the slices into small chunks.

Make a well in the middle of the dry ingredients and pour the liquid ingredients into the well. Mix slowly with a whisk until just combined. Add the peaches and gently fold into the batter with a wooden spoon.

Line a muffin pan with paper liners and fill each cup 2/3 full. If you have batter left over, distribute evenly across the cups. Mine all ended up being completely full. Bake for 30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in a muffin comes out clean.

When ready, take pan out of the oven and let sit for one to two minutes. Take out muffins from pan and put on cooling rack.

There is a lot of fruit in these, so they are very moist and don’t require any toppings.

Victorious fennel

Well, dear reader, I am glad to report that the fennel won, hands down. All my past resistance and aversion was swept away with that first lemony peppery licorice-y bite. My taste buds, experiencing something they had never even dared to imagine, went nuts. I’m pretty sure they were dancing the flamenco with all the clapping that was going on. I had actually meant to go out into the garden and get some fresh parsley to add to the salad, but after that first bite my feet remained firmly planted right where they were. I was afraid that anything more would ruin it; it was perfect in all its simplicity. Josh walked into the kitchen, took a bite, and we never made it to the dining table. We ate it standing up, straight from the bowl. I urge you to do the same. Go ahead, try it. Especially if fennel has never been your friend. You may just be surprised.

The tomato-zucchini casserole was also everything I had hoped for. It had our stomachs growling and our eyes glued to the timer as the aroma of ripe tomatoes and rosemary filled the house. When it was finally time for it to come out, the parmesan was golden and bubbly, and the tomatoes had roasted down to a perfect withering of concentrated essence. Nothing quite compares to the flavor of a slowly roasted summer tomato fresh from the garden. Except maybe fennel salad.


Shaved Fennel Salad

2 small bulbs of fennel
½ a large lemon, juiced
¼ cup freshly grated parmesan
Extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper to taste

Quarter the fennel bulbs, cut out the hard core at the center and discard. Slice quarters as finely as possible. If you have a mandoline, you’re in luck, but if not, a knife works just fine. Put shaved fennel in a bowl, add the parmesan, the lemon juice, and drizzle with olive oil (go light at first, taste it, and add more if need be). Add salt and pepper to taste. Stir everything together. Taste and adjust to your liking. Eat immediately.

Serves 2.


Tomato-Zucchini Casserole

4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 large onions, thinly sliced
10 cloves garlic, pressed or finely chopped
½ cup dry white wine
5 large tomatoes, or 8-10 smaller ones (about 3 pounds), sliced ¼ inch thick
2 medium zucchinis, sliced ¼ inch think
2 sprigs fresh rosemary with stalks removed, finely chopped
½ cup finely grated parmesan cheese
1 tsp dried marjoram or oregano, or a mixture
Salt and freshly cracked black pepper

Preheat oven to 400°F.

Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onions and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and sauté another minute or two. Add white wine and cook for one more minute. Add salt and pepper to taste. Transfer half the mixture to an oven-proof dish and sprinkle with half the rosemary.

Layer the sliced tomatoes over the onion mixture so that they form a single sheet (you will have leftovers). Layer the sliced zucchini over the tomatoes (you should not have leftovers). Sprinkle the rest of the onion mixture and rosemary over the zucchini. Layer with the remaining tomatoes. Sprinkle with salt and crack pepper over the whole dish. Cover tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 45 minutes.

Sit back, relax, and sip wine while the aromas fill the house.

After 45 minutes, take dish out, uncover, and sprinkle with parmesan and dried herbs. Bake another 10 minutes, uncovered, until the cheese is golden and bubbly. Let sit a couple minutes before serving. Dish up and enjoy!

Make sure you have a small bowl of extra parmesan and a pepper grinder on the table. Not mandatory, but oh-so-delicious.

Serves three as a main course (two if you're both really hungry), four as a side dish.