They Sure Make a Big Deal Out of a Peach

My daughter Tess used to think she didn’t like peaches. But when she was nine and visited Italy, she changed her mind. We bought some lush peaches at the most charming frutta e verdura, “fruit and vegetable shop,” I had ever seen. The shop exterior was, appropriately, painted exactly the rosy blush color of a ripe peach. Folk art paintings of fruits and vegetables graced the windowpanes.

As we strolled by, the scent of peaches beckoned us, like those visible aromas that tickle the characters’ noses in cartoons. Inside the shop, the lettuces, radicchio, scallions, strawberries, cherries, onions, and peaches were arranged in an edible tapestry that would have impressed Martha Stewart.

Within moments Tess was in heaven, sweet golden juice dripping down her chin, eating a wondrous peach out of hand.

A day or two later, as we finished our midday meal at a family-run trattoria—not a fancy place at all—I wasn’t surprised when Tess ordered a fresh peach for dessert.

The waitress returned with a plate, a knife, and a fork, laying the cutlery carefully at Tess’ place setting.

“What’s this for?” Tess asked.

“Italians cut the fruit and eat it from a plate,” I explained. “They treat a ripe peach with the respect it deserves.”

Next, the server brought a clear glass bowl filled with cool water.

“What’s this for?” Tess asked.

“Italians clean the fruit just before eating it so none of the luscious flavor is washed away,” I answered.

Finally, the waitress presented the ripe peach, in full regalia, nestled in a linen-lined basket.

Tess blinked with amazement and grinned widely. Now she understood: “They sure make a big deal out of a peach!”

©Cooking Up an Italian Life, 2001