Can you blame me? Have you never found a peach too fleeting? I’m not talking about the little immigrant rocks flown in from some warm place and placed on a grocer’s cold heap, September through June. I’m talking about the peaches that come to you, bursting or bruised, off a nearby tree at the height of summer. Those are the kinds of peaches that terrify and fascinate me. I just cannot resist them.  I recognize that none of this really explains why I am so timid around peaches and pate sucrée. Maybe it’s as simple as this (though I’m really not a math person):

peaches = fleeting = summer

by contrast:

pie = time

By extension, I’m not sure I want to spend an entire day of my summer inside, potentially ruining 6 perfect peaches in an amateur pie job. Time flies, and for that matter, so do the good peaches. Imagine pulsing the elements of your crust, turning around, and finding no fruit left on the counter. It might be improbable with any other fruit, or in any other season. But with peaches in July, it is highly likely. Also likely: a too-hot kitchen; a fallen crust; battered fruit and a broken heart.

But I talked myself up to the task, and set aside the better part of a gorgeous afternoon to finally commit to the ultimate summer dessert. Still, I wanted nothing to do with the cloak of a double crust. Fortunately, the problem had been solved by Martha Stewart, whose recipe called for a luxurious coating of crème fraîche , streusel topping and a single crust…it reminded me of last summer’s clafoutis, where the peaches rose to the top of the custard so that their colors and curves were very much a part of the dessert.

I can happily report that this pie was worth the wait: none of the peaches were eaten en route to the oven, by me or anybody else. I also want to say that I got some help from the witty Deb, of Smitten Kitchen, whose advice on baking a pie crust is spot-on. This pie was equally edible a day (and two) later, when stored in the fridge. In the end, I felt like a magician, extending the lives of these ephemeral fruits–if only for two days.

Peach Pie with Crème Fraîche

Make the crust:  (Adapted from Smitten Kitchen)

1 ¼ cups flour
1  tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 sticks (4 ounces) cold, unsalted butter, cubed

Set aside a cup of ice water.

In a food processor (or a large bowl) blend together flour, sugar and salt.
Add butter and pulse (or blend with a pastry blender) until pea-sized pieces emerge.
Don’t over-blend, even if dough seems uneven—the little bits of butter make the crust flaky.
Place the dough on a work surface (unless it is already in a bowl) and bring it together by adding ¼ c of ice water.
Gather dough with a spatula. If it seems dry, add water, 1 tablespoon at a time.
When dough is moist enough to cling together, knead it into a ball.
Wrap ball in plastic and press it into a disc. Refrigerate for 1 hour.

On a floured surface, roll out dough to about 1/8” thick.
Press into a regular-sized pie plate (9-10”).
Trim edges and create whatever decorative edge inspires you.
Poke bottom of crust with a fork and freeze for 30 minutes.
Just before removing crust from freezer, preheat the oven to 400°F.
Par-bake by pressing aluminum foil against frozen pie crust.
Bake for 10 minutes, then gently remove foil and press raised spots with the back of a spoon.
Return crust to oven until golden brown, approximately 5 minutes.
Transfer to a wire rack to cool slightly.
Reduce oven temperature to 375°F.

Make the Streusel

¼ cup confectioners’ sugar
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cinnamon
Pinch of salt
¼ cup cold (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces

Stir sugar, flour, baking powder, cinnamon and salt together in a small bowl.
Add butter and blend into the flour mixture with the tines of a fork, until coarse crumbs form.
Set aside.

Make the Filling

1 ¾ pounds ripe (6 medium) yellow peaches, pitted and quartered
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
Pinch of salt
5 tablespoons crème fraîche

Put peaches into a medium bowl, and sprinkle with sugar and salt; gently toss to coat and let stand 15 minutes.
Spread 2 tablespoons crème fraîche onto bottom of crust and sprinkle with 1/3 of the streusel.
Layer peaches on top and dot with remaining crème fraîche .
Sprinkle with remaining streusel.

Bake until crème fraîche bubbles and streusel is golden brown, about 50 minutes.
Cover edge of crust with foil if it begins to brown prematurely.
Let cool on a wire rack 15 minutes.
Serve warm or at room temperature and store in the refrigerator.

In fact, just last week, Mom and I found some spectacular Maine blueberries on a trip up north, and I thought I would share this recipe with you in case you happen upon a similar trove. Perhaps you have some tenacious bushes in your backyard. Maybe a lucky farmer at the market. Maybe even, you’re climbing to the high end of the Appalachian trail, and will find some of these along your route. If so, I can confidently recommend the following recipe as a worthy blueberry send-off.

Inspiration for this came three years back, when Christopher and I went blueberry picking in Connecticut and came home with 5 fecund bags. We made a lot of pancakes, and a lot of muffins. We also made a buckle—his favorite childhood dessert. And because his timing is generally perfect, it has become something of a tradition that every August, for his birthday, another one gets made.

This year’s rendition came alongside a meal at his request: au gratin potatoes with caramelized onion and Poblano peppers, Ribeye with béarnaise sauce and sautéed spinach with shallots. I spent a nice afternoon in the kitchen, but after all of that whisking of butter and eggs for the béarnaise; the grilling of peppers and caramelizing of onion for the gratin and the searing of a rather large hunk of meat in a rather intimidating pad of butter, I was happy to dip my spoon into a fluffy yellow batter and fold in some perfect, little bluettes—the final round of the season.

Let me say one thing for this powerhouse ‘buckle:’ it’s not really a buckle. It’s more of a cake-crumble, which I like because it keeps the berries suspended and contained in its batter, rather than leaving them to spill out each time you lift a piece of dough from the top. That is not a bad thing, mind you: I love oozy blueberries, barely clinging to the times of my fork in their syrupy, deflated way. But I also like them a little bit pert—sweet, surprising bursts that pop out of a bite of dough.

On top of that, cobblers and traditional buckles are hard to serve for breakfast. It can be done, but you will most definitely look like you are eating last night’s dessert in the morning hours. This rendition, however, hints of a rustic loaf—especially if you cut it into squares instead of the traditional cake-angle. It’s amazing what presentation can do for your entire perception of a meal.

Anyway, if you can do this, do it now. If not, wait for next summer, or substitute the blueberries for something that remains in season… I hear there are some exquisite huckleberries in Wyoming these days. Blackberries, another personal favorite, are still very much gracing their needly bushes.

Blueberry Buckle Cake

Adapted from Gourmet

Serves 6-8

For the Top

1/4 cup soft, unsalted butter, softened

1/2 cup raw sugar

1/3 cup flour (whole wheat or all purpose)

1/2 tsp cinnamon

1/2 tsp nutmeg

For the Batter:

3/4 cup soft, unsalted butter, softened

3/4 cup raw sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/4 teaspoon double-acting baking powder

1 1/3 cups all-purpose flour (or 1 c all-purpose; 1/3 c whole wheat) plus 1 tbsp

1/2 teaspoon salt

3 large eggs

4 cups blueberries, clean and stemless

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and butter a round 10″ x 2″ cake pan.

Make the topping:

Blend butter, sugar, flour cinnamon and nutmeg until incorporated and pearl-sized balls form.

Cover and store in the refrigerator while preparing batter.

Make the batter:

Toss blueberries with 1 tbsp flour, set aside.

Cream together butter and sugar in a medium bowl with an electric mixer. Add vanilla.

In another bowl, stir together baking powder, flour and salt.

Beat flour mixture into butter mixture alternating with the eggs, one at a time.

Pour batter into cake pan and bake from 40-45 minutes, or until toothpick inserted into center of cake comes out clean and the topping is golden.

When I was young, I had the good fortune of living up the hill from a blueberry patch that belonged to a place called March Farms. Just passed the farm was a pond called Long Meadow, where my family went from morning until evening in the days when school was out.

Sometimes we headed down the road to March Farms for a basket of all-you-can-pick blueberries and one or two of Mrs. March’ s giant peanut butter cookies. It is still a spectacular lunch.

I go back to the farm every summer and haul away as many bags of berries as I can afford. At $2 a pound, it’ s a pretty good deal—especially since a few end up digested before the loot gets weighed. As someone who has spent nearly $5 for a mini-box at the grocery store, $2 per pound feels like hitting the blueberry jackpot. So of course, every summer I end up with a surfeit of them. And every summer they’ re gone within a week.

From baking to eating, it’ s fleeting.

If you’ re looking to put away a huge amount of fruit in a very short time, I suggest a crumble. I think I ate this more quickly than I baked it. My sister and I, after a few glasses of wine, polished off two-thirds of the thing after dinner. The rest went down for breakfast in the morning.

A crumble goes well with Mascarpone cheese, or a dollop of vanilla ice cream. It’ s a bit juicy, which is nice, because the liquid can be spooned over your dairy of choice and turned into a warm coulis. The crumble is worthy of thirds, and as I jabbed a bit extra off the top while serving myself yet-another-piece, I had a vision of myself at 5 years old, pilfering dots off the top of my Grandmother’ s Entenmann’ s Crumb Coffee Cake while she was up from the table, serving herself tea.

But this is so much better than Entenmann’ s. The buttery, crunchy topping (which tastes caramelized because of the baked brown sugar) goes perfectly with the slightly tart blueberries that melt and bubble out from the sides. Nothing cloyingly sweet or overwhelmingly heavy here.

If you find yourself with an extra 6 cups of berries to spare—quite an embarrassment of riches—make this. Make this! In under an hour you’ll have astonishingly beautiful, delicious results. It’ s a great way to pay homage to the fleeting pulchritude and flavor of summer’ s favorite fruit, which is of course, your favorite summer fruit, whatever that may be.*

Blueberry Crumble

Serves 6

6 c blueberries (or any summer fruit, cut finely)
¾ c flour plus 1 tbsp
½ c packed brown sugar
¼ c granulated white sugar
4 tbsp butter, cold, chopped into small pieces.
1 tsp cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 350.

Wash and thoroughly dry the blueberries, then toss with 1 tbsp flour and ¼ c white sugar. Transfer to a pie pan.

In a medium sized bowl, mix the flour, brown sugar and cinnamon. Add the butter with your fingers until small crumbles form throughout.

Distribute the mixture evenly on top of the blueberries, starting at the center. I like to leave a little room on the edges for the blueberries to poke through.

Bake for 30-35 minutes, or until the top is quite brown and the blueberries have bubbled.

* Some fruits may not be as juicy as berries, and you may sacrifice your coulis…