Peach Crumble

 Michigan peaches have been in short supply this summer. The crop was damaged back in the spring when warm weather encouraging early growth was followed by nippy frost. 

I found some at Miller's Orchard in Nappanee last Friday. It took a few days for them to ripen and soften. Today I made peach crumble.

 This recipe comes from the blog of Chris Scheuer. She uses almond flour along with all-purpose flour in this dish, but she mentions that you can use all-purpose flour for all of the amount. I did that. I added about 1/2 teaspoon almond extract because she said the almond flavor was so nice with the peaches. I think I would use a little less lemon zest next time; or maybe just add a bit more sugar. Enjoying the flavors of summer.

Fresh Peach Crumble

Servings 8

Ingredients:

Fruit Layer:

3 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1/4 cup sugar

8 medium peaches pitted and sliced (peeling left on)

finely grated zest from 1 medium lemon

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Crumble Topping:

1/2 cup butter

3/4 cup almond flour

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

3/4 cup sugar

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a sheet pan with foil or parchment paper for easy cleanup.

2. Place peaches in a shallow 2-quart baking dish. Sprinkle with the lemon juice and lemon zest. Combine flour and sugar in a small bowl. Sprinkle over the peaches. Stir gently to distribute the flour.

3. Place butter in a medium microwave-safe bowl. Cover with a paper towel and microwave on high power for 1 minute.

4. Add the topping all-purpose flour and sugar to the melted butter. Stir with a fork until crumbles form. Take handfuls of the topping and sprinkle over the peaches. Place pan on prepared sheet pan.

5. Bake for 45-55 minutes or until topping is light golden brown and peaches are bubbly. Check at 40 minutes and cover with foil if the topping is getting too brown but the peaches are still not bubbly.

We ate ours with a scoop of vanilla ice cream while the crumble was slightly warm.

Pickles Cafe

 We ate breakfast yesterday (Friday) in Columbia City at Pickles Cafe.

It is located across from the county courthouse. On Saturdays there is a farmers market around that building; we will go back in the fall to shop. Probably we will eat breakfast at Pickles also. It is about a 25- minute drive for us.

The decor is hodgepodge. My husband commented that except for the metal window counter stools, there were no two chairs alike in the cafe. The dishes, silverware, and mugs are also an assortment. 

We had been here previously for lunch, but this was the first time for breakfast. The hours are 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. except currently on Wednesdays they reopen for dinner. They are closed on Sundays.

There are specials on a blackboard. The back side of the menu also lists different omelets. Notice the gimmick of pickles coming with your meal. Not the kind of pickles I like and very strange with French toast casserole. The casserole changes periodically. Right now, it has blueberries, strawberries, a few blackberries.

My husband ordered Morning Mingle which came with biscuits with gravy and a portion of the French toast casserole. The gravy had lots of chunks of meat, but he said it was too thick. 

It was a cool morning or we might have sat outside since the streets were not yet busy at 8 a.m.

Mono no aware

 

Today while browsing the internet, somebody mentioned an essay by Marilynne Robinson. I was only able to access a few paragraphs as most of it was behind a paywall. I did see the phrase lacrimae rerum. Tears of things, tears in things. Our world and lives touched by sadness, tragedy.

When I searched for the Latin phrase to find its meaning, I became aware of a Japanese concept: mono no aware. Thing or things of sadness. Things of beauty that touch us not only because of beauty but because of the impermanence of that beauty. The example given was the blossoming of cherry trees. 

Some comments pointed out that life is permeated with sadness because of change and loss. Geese flying overhead in autumn or pristine snow might be other examples. They might make us melancholy.

I certainly feel that way about the flowers I put in vases in my house. I love to gaze at them, but they quickly fade and droop. I try not to think of their impermanence but to pause often and drink in their loveliness while they are fresh and vibrant.