Look at these gorgeous donut peaches, just waiting for us. When we got to the orchard, we walked briskly up the hill to get to the peaches, trying to get ahead of others.
Picking peaches at a farm is like an Easter egg hunt. Every person for himself! We needn’t have worried. There were so many peaches to gather I didn’t know how to start.
Here in its beautiful natural surroundings bugs and man are equal. Bugs and birds got to many fruits before we did. From afar, the fruit were abundant. Looking closer, there were nicks and half pecked fruit on the tree. From habit with grocery shopping, I looked for flawlessness and press to make sure they are not rock solid. After all, aren’t we here because we want them tree ripened?
I found a few good ones, fat and juicy looking. Hmm…at the stem there was a gap. I wondered why none of the birds got to this one. I pulled the fruit apart and screamed. There was a big bug in it! Well, good thing I didn’t bite into it.
Immediately, I informed my people. Out tumbled the fruit from our bags. Time for quality control. True enough, most had bugs, or had traces of critter activity. Yuck.
They told us to wash the fruit before eating. Elaine had water and so we rinsed some and tested how they tasted. Meah…I’ve tasted better.
Then Ted called to us. He found donut peaches uphill and these had fewer nicks. They were also sweeter. Into the bags they went! My husband–my Central Valley California man who feels quite at home in fruit country–was really getting into this. His bag looked a lot heavier than mine. As the forager gatherer of the family, I selected mine carefully. “Ted,” I said, “they’re not free, you know.”
We have to be, well…picky. After all, we still had to pay $2.50 for each pound of peaches you picked. So of course, you should get as many perfect ones as you can.
Then Ted stood at one tree. After sampling from many trees, he thought this one tasted really good. We each picked one from the tree and bit into it. Wow, this tasted different. So we all stood around the one tree and started picking fruit from it, with eye for no other.
Picking peaches is not as easy as I thought. I developed a sense of appreciation for farm workers spending hours and hours picking these fuzzy fruit, reaching under, and over and through tree limbs, fighting insects, and long grass, and the hot sun. And farmers–think of the number of bad fruit they toss out before they ship them to the supermarkets.
This was at Great Country Farms, in Bluemont, Va. On a Saturday, its just an easy hour drive from metropolitan DC area. We drove through Bluemont, a quaint little town and it gets scenic when you head towards the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The farm offer some other activities for children–train or wagon rides, barnyard animals.
It was fun. They say it’s peak season right now. Go!
For now, check out my Peach Cobbler recipe. I also baked some of the more tart fruit with my chicken. They are great grilled.
