« Question on waking up in the dark | Main | Monday Morning Quarterbacking: the Bicycle »

March 9, 2009

Saturday supper with the Larges



Faithful readers will remember that in January I bought a can of Baugher's locally canned peaches when I was in the winter doldrums. I don't think I've bought canned fruit in a hundred years because there are so many varieties of fresh fruit available year round these days.

But Saturday night my husband and I got to drinking wine and eating little snacks (you know, a handful of peanuts, a few tortilla chips, a Pepperidge Farm goldfish or two), and pretty soon I realized cooking the lamb chops I had bought for dinner was simply too much trouble. ...

We got out the cold asparagus left over from the night before, and I really exerted myself and doctored some mayonnaise with lemon juice and curry powder. We dipped the asparagus spears in the mayonnaise and ate them with our fingers, and then I cut up some carrots and we dipped those in, as well as a cut-up ripe avocado.

And then, for some reason, those canned peaches in heavy syrup, which had been languishing on the shelf, caught my eye.  I'm not sure whether they were the entree or dessert, but they tasted ambrosial.

Surely they aren't really that much better than other canned peaches, they just seem so because they're more expensive. But my husband agreed.

Of course, he has a special memory of canned peaches. One summer when he was in high school, he lived and worked on a Montana Indian reservation through an American Friends Service program. They had no fresh fruit or vegetables (or running water in the houses, for that matter), and canned peaches were the most wonderful treat imaginable.

I had been planning to put a spoonful of the Major Grey's chutney in the center of the peach halves with a little butter, stick them in the oven and have them with some sort of pork dish, but now that isn't going to happen.

Posted by Elizabeth Large at 8:01 AM | | Comments (28)


Fans of Deadwood will remember that canned peaches were often served by town psychopath Al Swearengen.


Movin to the country
I'm gonna eat a lot of peaches
Peaches come from a can
they were put there by a man
In a factory downtown
If I had my little way
Id eat peaches everyday

A recipe dare to the sandoxers: Try This!

Hot Damn Peaches
From How to Eat Like a Republican, or Hold the Mayo, Muffy -- I'm Feeling Miracle Whipped Tonight by Susanne Grayson Townsend (Villard Books, 2004 -- page 107)

1 15oz. can freestone peaches
1 .7oz packet Good Seasons Italian dressing mix (dry)
1/4 cup grated sharp cheddar cheese
Toasted sesame seeds, 1/2 - 1 teaspoon per peach

Preheat broiler.
Sprinkle peaches with dry seasoning.
Fill cavities with cheese.
Broil until cheese melts and browns a bit and seeds begin to pop.

I keep the ingredients for this in my pantry at all times.

Blow up your TV
Throw away your paper
Move to the country
Build you a home
Have a lotta children
Feed 'em on peaches
Try and find Jesus
On your own

RayRay - I haven't heard that song in ages. Thanks for reminding me.

(got to be in on the lyrics bandwagon!)

Rotten peaches rotting in the sun
Seems I've seen that devil fruit since the world begun
Mercy I'm a criminal, Jesus I'm the one
Rotten peaches rotting in the sun

Peaches En Regalia is a great tune, but has no lyrics.

Gosh, I haven't had canned peaches since forever, but I keep a couple of cans of pears (in juice) in my pantry to make the Williamsburg Inn's parsnip-pear soup. It's SO lovely!

Well it has to be said:

Really love your peaches, wanna shake your tree ...

Or was it "Really like your peaches..."? space cowboys before I finish my morning coffee!

Does that mean I can't call you the gangster of love, Lissa?

what the hell is "the pompitous of love" anyway?

"Do I dear to eat a peach"

I have always wondered about that too. So I finally went looking and found this: the pompitous of love

as it turns out, it means nothing.

Stacy, nope. It would force my girlfriend to have to beat you up. I'd hate to be responsible for such a dreadful thing.

Thanks for that link, PCB Rob.


try to lasso that rainbow.

Now I'm going to go cut out pocket-sized puppetutes of all the sandboxers.

thanks, Fl Rob. Wow! in 1953 people were singing about loving peaches and wanting to shake your tree! Those wild musicians!

Lariat Laura Lee, I think that a well-trained unicorn might be necessary for any rainbow wrangling (or possibly just some ribs and a bottle of Jameson's).

Don't know how the Trib censors will feel about this one, but:

Uh-oh here she come
She got them gold hot pants on again
Yeah man
I wanna talk, but I dunno
She's a Peach
She was dark, she was tan
She made me glad to be a man
She was young, she was smart
Just one glance and
she stole my heart
The kinda girl you wanna teach
She's a Peach
Summertime, feelin'
fine, getting wild

All that's on my mind
Here she come, dressed in red
Get her done, is all
that's in my head
Her hot pants can't hide her cheeks
She's a Peach
She was pure, every ounce
I was sure, when her titties bounced
Every way, she's a winner
Turn a gay preacher to a sinner
No one you want your mama meet
She's a Peach
This is a girl plays hard 2 get
I would die if I kissed her
I would try, but I'm last on her list
She's so cool and I'm so ugly
I'd be a fool, to think
she could love me
This kinda girl's always out of reach
She's a Peach

Joyce, you should know better! They were singing about such things long before 1953. See just about any CD by Sapphire, the Uppity Blues Women, or any early blues recordings.

The blues scene in the 50s was a sub-culture. It took Elvis Presley and others to bring it to the masses.

Please! Elvis was not singing the blues! He, and others, were just watering down what was then called "race music" and making tons of money, none of which they shared with the folks who wrote and developed the music.

Elvis was Wonderbread to the pumpernickel of the blues.

Oh Lissa, no you di'int! What an unfortunate use of the word pumpernickel considering its etymology. Way way too German.

Owl, oh yes she di-id! Pretty good analogy I think. Pumpernickel "indigestibility ". What did Elvis (Rolling Stones,Beatles, fill in the blank) do for the blues? Now digestible for the masses at a record store near you!

Habibi, thanks for the etymology. I wasn't aware of it. I just really like pumpernickel bread, and isn't it just a fun word? Pumpernickel is real and nutritious, just like the blues.

I love pumpernickel too. Both the bread and the word.

Tru dat, Elvis was pretty Wonder bread. But still, he helped get the masses to experience a whole new genre of music (at least to white folk).

Joyce, thanks!

And I was never an Elvis fan.

I;m staying out of the blues/fiber debate.

Aw, c'mon, Owlie! Blues makes you regular!

Post a comment

Verification (needed to reduce spam):

About this blog
Richard Gorelick was appointed The Baltimore Sun's restaurant critic in September 2010. Before joining the paper staff fulltime, he contributed freelance criticism and features articles about food to area and regional publications. Along the way, he dispatched for short-distance trucking companies, shilled for cultural non-profits, and assisted in cognitive neurology research – never the subject, always the control.

He takes restaurants seriously but not himself, and his favorite restaurant is the one you love, too.

Top Ten Tuesdays
Most Recent Comments
Baltimore Sun coverage
Restaurant news and reviews Recently reviewed
Browse photos and information of restaurants recently reviewed by The Baltimore Sun

Sign up for FREE text alerts
Get free Sun alerts sent to your mobile phone.*
Get free Baltimore Sun mobile alerts
Sign up for dining text alerts

Returning user? Update preferences.
Sign up for more Sun text alerts
*Standard message and data rates apply. Click here for Frequently Asked Questions.
  • Food & Drink newsletter
Need ideas for dinner tonight? A recommendation for the perfect red wine?'s Food & Drink newsletter is there to help.
See a sample | Sign up

Stay connected