Friday, August 12, 2011

Peach cobbler, hold the cobble

Tim declared last night that we must eat our remaining peaches before their sweet juiciness suddenly converts into something furry and far less appealing. I've been eating at least one of these gems daily with my lunch, and sometimes another while making dinner, but I would never balk at a third pitch -- especially a stone-free Elberta with barely detectable fuzz.

While we all agreed that peaches would make a perfect dessert, the puzzle was deciding what to do with them. Pie or cobbler was too much effort. We had just consumed a fabulous but starchy dinner of take-out Peruvian chicken, sweet plantains and indescribably delicious black beans and rice from Mami Nora's, our new favorite splurge. By splurge I mean caloric, not cost. Our massive feast -- including a luscious horchata for the delivery girl -- was about $27, and there's still plenty for a hearty lunch.

With the goal of minimal prep and maximum flavor, I opted for a roast to bring out their natural sugars. I just cut them in half, removed the stones and arranged on a pie plate coated lightly with vegetable oil spray. I drizzled the halves with agave syrup and placed in a 425 degree oven for about 25 minutes -- just enough time to lie down and recover from my splendid if indulgent dinner.

The peaches were browned in some spots and shimmery with red puddles of juice-tinged agave in others. A poke with the tip of a sharp knife released a fragrant dribble of nectar, so I quickly transferred them to serving bowls with a dollop of Greek yogurt and an extra drizzle of agave. It was kind of like cobbler without the cobble, and so soothingly lush that Graham didn't even gripe about the yogurt.

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