Picking a perfect peach

"An apple is an excellent thing," observed George Du Maurier, "until you have tried a peach!" He was hardly the only one to be enamored of what food historian Maguelonne Toussaint-Samat calls "the typical fruit of summer." For example, Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins, former proprietors of Manhattan's celebrated Silver Palate gourmet food shop, claim, "A perfectly ripe peach is worth waiting for all summer long." And Alice Waters, California's apostle of utterly fresh, organic produce, goes so far as to assert, "The most perfect fruit has to be a perfect peach." Her rationale is convincing. She says about the peach, "Its texture is luscious, its aroma is intoxicating, its flavor is ravishing, and its juice runs everywhere."

No wonder peaches are the third most popular fruit in this country after apples and oranges, and no wonder that in China, where the peach originated a couple of thousand years before Christ and where wild peach trees still grow, it is revered. There it is said to offer protection from evil spirits and is the symbol of immortality. The peach tree in the Garden of Immortality, the Chinese say, is so immense that it takes a thousand men linking hands to encircle it. (Do you suppose this is where Roald Dahl got the idea for his delightful children's book "James and the Giant Peach"?)

According to legend, Siwang Mou, the Royal Mother, grew a peach tree in western China on whose blossoms the immortals fed. It bore fruit only once every 3,000 years. Given the stature of the peach in Chinese culture, it isn't surprising that the emperor's royal scepter, which doubled as a magic wand, was made of peach wood and that even today Chinese brides still wear wreaths of peach blossoms to symbolize their virginity.

The Chinese, by the way, claim to have invented the espalier method, wherein trees are grown against a wall, especially for the peach tree. French legend, on the other hand, gives credit for this technique to a retired musketeer during Louis XIV's reign who, interestingly enough if you live in Cape Girardeau, called such installations his "Girardot" walls. Whether he actually devised the method or not, the technique produced the most famous peaches of France, the internationally acclaimed Montreuil peaches grown near Paris.

Ironically, though it started out in China, the peach got its name because once it traveled to Persia it grew so well there that it was thought to be native to that country. Alexander the Great, who took it to Greece from Persia, named it persica (Latin for Persian), a term which is still part of its scientific designation and from which its names in most other languages derive. The Romans, who called it the Persian apple, spread it throughout Europe and Columbus brought it to this country where by the time of the American Revolution it grew so abundantly that it was sometimes mistakenly assumed to be native to this continent.

The peach figures not only in the legends of the Orient, but also in those of the West. Indeed, according to "The Oxford Companion to Food" of all stone fruits (technically classified as drupes) the peach, with the possible exception of the cherry, is the most celebrated in literature. Theophrastus was probably the first writer in classical antiquity to mention the peach. Pliny discussed several varieties. The Roman poet Virgil commented on the peach's silken skin. So did, much later, Emile Zola who likened the clear skin of the Montreuil peach to that of the girls of northern France in contrast, he said, to the peaches from the Midi which were yellow and sunburned like the girls there.

Because of its plushy skin, fleshy feel, and curvaceous shape, the peach is often regarded as sensual and downright sexy. The Oxford Companion says no other fruit is as laden with erotic metaphor. For example, quite often in literature a fruit-stealing scene represents romantic or sexual behavior, especially if peaches are involved. The French even grow a variety of peach called "Tetons de Venus" or breasts of Venus. Perhaps that's why Renoir advised students who wanted to learn how to paint a nude woman to paint peaches first. And who knows? Maybe that's why when Escoffier wanted to honor Australian soprano Nellie Melba, he resorted to peaches. His creation, Peach Melba, is the most famous peach dish of them all.

Despite its suggestive looks, however, a peach will not be good unless it is tree-ripened. That's because a peach will not get any sweeter once it has been picked, though it will get softer and juicier. Consequently, peaches with green undertones, the kind you are often likely to find in supermarkets these days, should be avoided. They were picked too early. Hence, as the late James Beard put it, "Your success with peaches will depend in large part on your nearness to orchards." Fortunately, there's still one peach orchard left in Cape Girardeau County. Occupying 35 acres off South Silver Springs Road, the Pioneer Peach Orchard, a 75-year old operation still being run by fifth generation growers in the Beggs family, offers what are surely the freshest tree-ripened peaches around. That's because they don't have to travel very far once picked. The fruit stand where they're sold is adjacent to the orchard. There between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m.. daily except Sunday you can discover why family matriarch Shirley Beggs, even though she makes a mean peach kuchen, rightly maintains that the best way to eat peaches is out of hand with the juice dribbling down your arm.

Peachy Keen Pie

On those occasions when the juiciness of a fresh peach eaten out of hand threatens both decorum and clothing, the next best thing is a fresh peach pie. There couldn't be an easier way to make one than this recipe, adapted from one of Shirley Beggs' favorite volumes, "The Passion for Peaches Cookbook" by Gail McPherson. You don't even have to peel the fruit! If you want to enhance the pie's appearance and flavor even further, add a cup of fresh blueberries to the filling.

Ingredients:

9-inch baked pie shell

3 1/2 cups sliced fresh peaches, unpeeled

1/2 cup orange juice

1 cup sugar

2 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch

Directions:

Arrange 2 cups of the sliced peaches in the pie shell. Process remaining 1 and 1/2 cups peaches, skin and all, in food processor for a few seconds until mashed. (You should have one cup mashed peaches.) Combine mashed peaches, orange juice, sugar, and cornstarch and bring to a boil. Cook until mixture is clear and slightly thickened. Pour over peaches in pie shell, let cool, and chill. Serve with whipped cream.

Listen to A Harte Appetite at 8:49 a.m. Fridays and at 11:59 a.m. Saturdays on KRCU, 90.9 FM. Write A Harte Appetite, c/o the Southeast Missourian, P.O. Box 699, Cape Girardeau, Mo., 63702-0699 or by e-mail to tharte@semissourian.com.