Peaches and ginger-lime whipped cream

Sometimes the simplest dishes are the best. Take peaches and cream, for instance. When a peach is ripe and in season, it doesn’t need much to taste good, though a dollop of fluffy, chilled cream brightened with a hint of lime and ginger certainly doesn’t hurt.

Now, Texans love peaches and rightfully so, as Texas peaches are indeed the best. This isn’t a brag, just a statement of fact. Trust me—I’ve eaten peaches from all over and Texas peaches are indeed the juiciest and sweetest peaches of all.

If you’re not in Texas in the summertime, then peaches just may well be the thing you miss the most. Texas farmers don’t ship their peaches out of state, as they’re a fragile fruit that don’t travel very well. So if I do find myself home in the summer, I stop at almost every truck or stand by the side of the road and grab a few to eat as I make my way.

This time last year I was in Texas and was driving from Houston to visit my grandma at her farm. Along the way I stopped in Fairfield to pick up a basket of peaches to take to her, as her tree hadn’t produced ripe fruit just yet.

While Hill Country peaches may be the most famous Texas peaches, I believe that Fairfield peaches are mighty fine peaches, too. It’s not for nothing that Fairfield is in Freestone County, a designation that guarantees your peach-eating experience will be a joyful one.

That said, in my recollection most peaches in Texas are freestone, a term that means that the pit doesn’t stick to the fruit; the opposite of freestone is clingstone or cling peaches, as my grandma calls them, where the pit sticks to the fruit. Like myself, she’s not much of a fan.

“Cling peaches are best for pickling,” she told me. “Though if you ask me, that’s a waste of a good peach,” she said. (My first book has a recipe for pickled peaches, if you’re interested.) This sentiment from her, however, wasn’t surprising. While my grandma is famous for her peach pies and peach cobblers, her take on peaches and cream may be her best peach dessert of all.

On that visit last year, after a simple light supper she took a couple of the peaches I had brought, sliced them, placed them into bowls, and then grabbed some frozen dollops of whipped cream from the freezer. She topped the sliced peaches with the frozen whipped cream and we then tucked into the bowls of peaches and cream. It was heavenly.

The peaches were ripe, juicy, and still warm from the sun. The frozen dollops of whipped cream—a preparation she did to preserve some whipped cream she had leftover from another occasion—was a refreshing topping as the cream was firm and cold yet not heavy as ice cream can be.

While we could have easily served the peaches with freshly whipped cream, the extra-cold cream was welcome on a hot day. While plain whipped cream is very good, the addition of fresh lime zest and ginger livened up the cream without overpowering the delicate peaches. Likewise, when peaches are in season they don’t need much coaxing to taste good, but if the peaches hadn’t been as juicy or sweet as we like them, gently cooking the slices in a little butter and brown sugar would have been enough to make them shine.

We were silent as we ate our fresh peaches and cream, just enjoying the perfect slices of summertime fruit. When I finished my bowl, I asked her for another. She agreed that another bowl would be good and so we went back into the kitchen, sliced more peaches, and placed them into our bowls with the frozen whipped cream.

While it didn’t take much effort, these bowls of peaches and cream were the perfect end to a summer day. And we both agreed, that sometimes the simplest dishes are indeed the best.