Peaches: Georgia on my cake

I’m not sure if this post is about peaches or bourbon. But since this blog is about eating in season, and I can get bourbon whenever I please (except Sundays, in this state), we’ll pretend it’s about peaches.

I like bourbon. I like to cook with bourbon. Sometimes, though not often, I even like to use bourbon for its intended purpose, and drink it. We have two kinds of bourbon in our house: the good stuff is in the liquor cabinet; the cheap stuff is in my cooking-alcohol cupboard, where I keep the tipple that, while technically still fit to drink, doesn’t cost an hour’s worth of paycheck when a dish needs a little enhancement.  Ok, ok, so it’s cheap booze, but it works fine for building flavor.

There are things in life that bourbon just makes better, and I’m not referring to romantic breakups, bad days at the office, or Lynyrd Skynyrd tribute bands. I’m talking about foods with a little natural sweetness, a trait that the round, smoky tones of bourbon really seem to play up with subtle butterscotchy goodness. Yams come to mind here. So does BBQ sauce. The other day, when I walked into the little meat market near us, peaches did.

Being from the West Coast, where peaches are grown commercially in all three states, I’m not sure I had ever tasted the iconic Georgia peach. Evidently, here in Indiana, just two relatively squat states away, we’re close enough that they might even be our “local” peach. The butcher shop I frequent carries a small stock of seasonal produce, often from local growers. On my last visit, they had positioned a big bushel of The Peach State’s finest front and center, and when I walked in I could smell them almost as strongly as the odor of the bacon smoker they keep out back.

The combination of wood smoke and peach scent must have triggered a recipe memory, because I drove home and roasted those fuzzies with some maple syrup and—wait for it—bourbon! Then I added them to what has become the husband’s favorite baked dessert that does not involve chocolate: a buttermilk cake. 

This is a cake that is neither light nor delicate. It’s dense and, honestly, maybe even a little coarse. But we’ll be polite, and call it rustic. It’s also not terribly sweet, as cakes go, but it’s very moist and carries just a little tang that really complements the concentrated sweetness of roasted fruit. And that rough texture really soaks up the sauce (Not to mention melting ice cream.) Oh, yeah. Like a sponge, it does.

I’ve made it with strawberries, and I’ve made it with plums, but I can already tell the version made with those pie-eyed peaches is going to be a regular summer sensation around here.

Roasting is also a great way to use slightly mushy peaches that may have gotten away from you in the fruit bowl. And even if you skip the cake, just roast the peaches and put them, still warm, over ice cream (Vanilla bean and pecan-praline would be both be good places to start.) or alongside roasted or grilled pork. 

Bon appétit. Or should I say, cheers?

Maple-bourbon roasted peaches

6 large or 8 medium-size ripe peaches (I think softer-fleshed clingstone types work best here. Freestones tend to be firmer, so you may not get quite as much juice.)

1/4 to 1/3 cup pure maple syrup (Amount may vary depending on the natural sweetness of the peaches. But, please, no artificially flavored pancake syrup. Spend a couple bucks more for the real thing.)

1/3 cup bourbon—or more, if you really like bourbon

1 tablespoon olive oil

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Place a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. In a small bowl, whisk together the maple syrup, bourbon, olive oil, and salt.

Peel and seed the peaches. Tip: blanching peaches loosens their skin and makes them much easier to peel. (For future reference, this works on nectarines, plums, and tomatoes, too.) To blanch, boil a large pot of water. While the water is heating, make a small x in the base of the fruit. Once the water is boiling, add the fruit, making sure the peaches are entirely submerged. Leave them for about 40 seconds. If your peaches are slightly under-ripe, allow them to remain in the hot water a little longer—up to a full minute. Remove them from the water with tongs or a slotted spoon, and allow them to cool enough so that you can handle them.

When the peaches are cool, with a paring knife, slip off the skins and cut them into wedges that are about ½-inch thick. Lay the wedges in a 13x9-inch baking dish. Pour the bourbon mixture over peaches and toss to coat. Then place them in the oven.

After about 15 minutes in the oven, the peaches will start sweating a bit of their own juices into the bourbon sauce. Give them a stir. Then close the door and set the timer for another 15.

About 20 minutes into roasting, you’ll really start to smell them. At the end of the second 15 minutes, stir again. But be gentle because they will be beginning soften, and we don’t want peach jam. Around this time, you may start to notice the juices are thickening a bit and browning around the sides of the baking dish.

Put the peaches back in the oven for another 15 minutes. At the end of this 15 is where you may have to start making some decisions. Every batch of peaches is different. The variety of peach as well as its ripeness level will affect the amount of juice they shed in the roasting process. You want browned, caramelized fruit, but you also don’t want things to dry up so much that you have none of that peachy, mapley, bourbony sauce for your cake. So if the peaches look like they need more browning, but much of the sauce has boiled off, add ¼-½  cup of water before you stir again.  If the peaches look as though they need more time in the oven, go in 10-minute increments, because things move faster at this point.

Roast the peaches for a total of 45 to 60 minutes, until they are golden with some browned spots, and the juices and syrup have thickened to about the consistency of that pure maple syrup. 

Remove the peaches and their sauce from the pan while still warm.  Place in a small bowl, and set aside.

Buttermilk cake with maple-bourbon roasted peaches

(Recipe adapted from Joy the Baker)

2½ cups all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 large eggs

1½ cups buttermilk

1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

roasted peaches

3 tablespoons turbinado sugar for topping (Use brown sugar in a pinch, but it won’t give quite the same crackly, crunchy, sweet crust over the top.)

Place a rack in the center of the oven and heat to 400 degrees F.  Butter an 11-inch cast iron skillet.  (You can also use an 11-inch round tart or quiche pan, or a 9×13-inch baking pan, although the cake will be thinner, and you’ll need to keep a closer eye on it in the oven.)

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, salt and sugar.  Set aside.

In a small bowl, whisk together buttermilk, eggs, and butter. Whisk in the vanilla extract.

Add the buttermilk mixture all at once to the dry ingredients. Stir until just combined and no lumps remain, but don’t overwork the batter. Spoon batter into the prepared pan and top with about half of the roasted peaches and half the maple-bourbon-peach juice. Sprinkle with the turbinado sugar.

Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until a skewer inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean. Do not over bake, or you’ll have dry cake. Allow the cake to cool to room temperature before slicing to serve.  Serve with the remaining roasted peaches, if you wish, a scoop of vanilla ice cream (best ever!), or softly whipped cream. Drizzle remaining syrupy juice over the top.