Peaches, Please

A Summer Love Letter from the Garden to the Table, and Back Again

Nothing says summer to me quite like the scent of a sun-warmed peach—ripe and ready, soft as a kiss, sweet as honey on the tongue. I wait all year for their arrival, and when they finally come, I buy them by the bagful, filling bowls on every counter, letting their perfume fill the house.

I eat them standing barefoot in the kitchen, juice running down my wrists. I tuck them into soups and cobblers and muddle them into cocktails for the people I love.

My sister—who was born knowing what to do with butter, sugar, and flour—makes pies so good they feel like time travel. One bite and I’m back in a world where days moved slowly, windows stayed open, and nothing mattered more than what was in the oven.

Peaches do that. They carry memory in their flesh. But they also bring nourishment, medicine, and joy. Their softness belies a wild resilience—those who’ve tended an orchard know what I mean. They are as tender as they are tough. They’ve earned their place on my altar of summer fruits.

Chilled Peach Soup with Basil & Mascarpone

This is one of those recipes that feels almost too pretty to eat. A velvet peach soup, spiced gently with cinnamon and a whisper of raw ancho chili, swirled through with basil and a luscious raspberry mascarpone. It’s part tonic, part dessert, and completely enchanting.

You’ll need:

• 6 large ripe peaches

• Flesh of 4 small nectarines

• 4 cups apricot juice

• ½ tsp ground cinnamon

• Agave nectar to taste

• 1 cup fresh basil leaves (a mix of Genovese, lemon, and Thai is divine)

• ½ raw ancho chili, seeded

• 1 bottle Prosecco or dry cava

For the mascarpone swirl:

• 1 cup mascarpone

• ¼ cup fresh raspberries

• 1 tbsp agave nectar

• ¼ cup red grape juice
  → Blend until smooth

To make:

Blend the peaches, nectarines, juice, cinnamon, basil, ancho, and sweetener in a high-speed blender until silky. Pour into a chilled tureen and stir in half the bottle of Prosecco. Taste and adjust until it sings. Serve in small bowls and gently swirl in the mascarpone—like stirring cream into a summer sunset.

Peach & Olive Oil Body Scrub

Because your skin deserves dessert, too.

If you’ve ever sliced into a peach so ripe it practically melts, you know they belong not just in the kitchen—but also in the bath. This scrub is simple, sensuous, and surprisingly therapeutic. The peaches exfoliate and nourish, the olive oil softens, and the cinnamon brings gentle stimulation to the skin. Yogurt adds a lovely tang and a little creamy love.

You’ll need:

• 1–2 cups very ripe peach slices

• ½ cup extra virgin olive oil

• 3 tbsp full-fat yogurt

• 1 tsp cinnamon

• 1½ cups raw sugar

To use:

Mash everything together in a bowl until it’s fragrant and textured. Draw a warm bath and soak for 10 minutes. Then, standing in the tub, gently rub the scrub all over your skin in circular motions. Let it sit for another few minutes, then rinse. Pat dry and bask in the softness. You’ll smell like midsummer and feel like satin.

---

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for being here.

I hope your kitchen is already humming with ideas—or at least the sweet memory of a perfect peach.

For my paid subscribers, I’ve tucked a few extra treasures below—part of a series I’m calling Notes from My Summer Table. Today’s note includes my favorite savory peach recipe: a slow-roasted pork tenderloin kissed with raspberries, bourbon, and garden peppers, a journaling prompt and notes about the summer table. The pork tenderloin is a dish I save for golden evenings, when the air is thick with fireflies and the people I love are nearby.

If you’re not yet a paid subscriber, I’d be honored to welcome you. Your support helps me keep writing, tending, and sharing this seasonal life.

Come read. The table’s set.