Peaches in Red Wine

This week has made me fall in love with Eat This...It'll Make You Feel Better! all over again. I could sit down and read it, cover to cover, lapping up the celebrity stories along with the sauces, and, especially, losing myself in Dom DeLuise's family.

It seems all sorts of appropriate, then, to end the week not with one of the complex cakes or fried dessert concoctions (though Eat This...It'll Make You Feel Better! has 'em, and they're fabulous), but with something a little more simple, a little more focused on the stories.

Peaches in Red Wine

Every kid feels there are certain things their parents do which embarrass them. Especially kids who are trying to be American, not Italian -- like I was when I was growing up. When my father would eat big, ripe peaches with his homemade wine for dessert, it would make me so embarrassed! I thought this was definitely not a class act -- even though I secretly loved the taste too. So you can imagine my surprise when, some years ago at a verrrrry fancy Italian restaurant, they served ... you guessed it! Ripe peaches in red wine for dessert. Writing this book has helped me examine some of my attitudes toward my past. I wish that my father were alive today, because nothing would please me more than to take him to a fancy restaurant for Peaches in Red Wine.

really ripe freestone peaches, sliced
light red wine
candlelight

Put the peaches in wineglasses, pour the wine over them, and let them sit for a while ... just long enough for a father and son to talk awhile and get to know each other better. Try it out on your dad, I'm sure he'll like it.

:sniffle:

Aw!

I'm sure it works with mothers and sons, daughters and mothers, sons and mothers, aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas, old neighbor ladies who don't get many visitors... try it out with anyone you need to get to know a little better.

...which makes me think, oh, yes, that this would be perfect summer-picnic-at-an-outdoor-concert sort of take-along dessert, too.

Writing this blog is helping me examine my attitudes about my own past and culture. Maybe I'll get a little less smug about cream of whatever casseroles, and be less hesitant to use a pudding mix in ... something non-pudding. Time will tell.

I miss my dad. I should give him a call.