Peach, Burrata & Basil Crostini

The Great Colorado Peach Dilemma: How I Became a Peach Hoarder

by Chef Deb Traylor

Oh, Colorado peaches – those juicy, sun-kissed orbs of pure fruity perfection!  Every year, like clockwork, I find myself caught up in the frenzy. The season arrives, and suddenly I am lining up at the farmer’s markets and parking lot stands, like I am a techie waiting for the latest iPhone release, except this product is fuzzy, ripe and smells delicious.

It always starts innocently enough, as all good stories do.  I leisurely stroll through the farmer’s market on a Saturday morning,  enjoying the scents of fresh picked veggies, baked goods, and the occasional free sample of something wonderful.  Before I know it, I see the line, and it’s a long one. Can a line that stretches to Wyoming be worth the wait?  If the peaches are from Palisade, they are worth the wait, so I jump in line and trade small talk with my fellow line-mates. The conversation is all a ruse, you see, to hide my impatience and a distraction too, so I don’t endlessly count the number of cases and compare them to the number of people in line. Surely, they won’t be greedy and take a whole case… surely not! “Be reasonable,” I silently plead. “Save some for the back of the line?”

By the time I reach the front, I’ve had plenty of time to convince myself I need a whole case.  One peach is laughable, I walked to Wyoming after all, that line was long.  A basket, maybe? Oh, but that’s an amateur move.  No, I need a case!  It’s not greedy. I can, after all, eat 40 peaches before they even think about becoming overripe.

The thrill of walking to my car with a case is real.  I am practically glowing with peachy smugness; I’ve just won the lottery.  As I drive home it hits me, what am I really going to do with all these peaches?

Day one is all about indulgence. I eat as many as I can, inhaling them faster than I can wipe the sticky mess off my hands and arms. Oh, but It’s worth it!!  Day two, I am slower, but I am still in love. So good, so sweet and they might be a bit better today than yesterday… if that is even possible.

Day three, it’s a quick peach jam, frozen beach burrata crostini, smoothies, peach tea  and spa water, even peach salsa. Every day after is a blur, I am handing them off to strangers, leaving bags of them on friends’ doorsteps and hiding them, chopped finely, in my cat’s food (She won’t notice if I cover it with tuna, right?).  At some point we hit saturation point, and even my friends walk on the other side of Old Town when they see me carrying a paper bag.  

Day five is a blur, all I can do it start cutting off the  overripe spots of these big round smooshy orbs and hope to get them in the freezer.  It will be January before I can face them again.  And yet, when I find them covered in frost, after months of being pushed so far to the back they are in danger of putting a hole in the appliance, I am happy. I’ve forgotten about my moments of greed followed by sweet desperation and despair.

Despite my struggles I know I will be in line next year, and I’ve resolved that I will only buy a bag or two next summer. Because in truth, the only thing sweeter than Colorado peaches is the absurdly delicious chaos they bring to my life. I won’t be greedy next year; I’ll only purchase a half case… but as anyone who knows me knows that’s “a tall Texas tale.”

Peach Burrata Crostini w/ Basil

Ingredients:

  • 4 slices sourdough bread,  grilled and sliced into 1-inch fingers
  • 4 oz burrata, drained
  • 1 whole peach, frozen for 4 hours
  • handful of basil
  • olive oil
  • crunchy salt (Maldon, Himalayan or Kosher)
  • balsamic reduction
  • edible flowers: nasturtium, marigolds, pansies 

Method:

Place sliced sourdough on a tray and top with gently torn, bite-sized pieces of burrata.
Using the small or medium hole on a box grater or a microplane, grate 1 -2 tablespoons of frozen peach over each crostini.
Drizzle with balsamic reduction and a few drops of olive oil.
Sprinkle crunchy salt over the top. 
Add small leaves of basil and a few edible flower petals

Note: Sliced frozen peaches are also lovely if you don’t have a microplane.

We ate the partially frozen leftovers from our photo shoot and were surprised how refreshing frozen fresh peaches taste!

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