Why do some peaches have fuzz? Unfortunately, we cannot ask the peaches themselves this question, so we can only speculate. Some think the fuzz protects peaches against insects and diseases, others guess it might shield against dehydration and sun. Most commercial growers know customers aren’t very fond of fuzz, and use brushers and washers to remove the stuff before it gets to market. If you like your peach fuzzy, shop at local farmers’ markets from farmers who leave the fuzz on.
What’s the difference between Turkish bay leaves and California bay leaves? They are different species of the laurel family. Turkish bay leaves, laurus nobilis,also known as Mediterranean bay leaves, or sweet bay, are the same variety the Ancient Greeks used to crown Olympic victors. Flat and oval shaped, they are prized culinarily for their sweet and mellow flavor. They now also cost more than their more plebian brethren. California bay leaves, umbellularia californica, are also known as mountain laurel, Oregon myrtle, and pepperwood. They are longer, skinnier, have a stronger flavor, and are more widely sold as bay leaves.
How long has this world been able to enjoy the nectarine? The origins of the nectarine are shrouded in marvelous mystery, but presumably this world has been able to enjoy the nectarine as long as it’s savored its twin, the peach. The two are genetically identical in every other way but their fuzz. Fuzziness is genetically dominant trait, but nectarines can spring from peach trees just as peaches appear from nectarines. According to Alan Davidson’s The Oxford Companion to Food, nectarines were not distinguished from their fuzzy brethren in language until medieval Frenchmen started calling them brugnons, which is still the modern frog term for les fruits qui ressemble à la pêche, avec une peau lisse. Englishmen came to call them nectarines, because they are good enough to serve as nectar, the food of the Gods. Nectarines were not cultivated commercially in the US until the mid-nineteenth century, but by some counts now outsell freestone peaches. For more on peaches, see below.
What is a cling peach? A cling peach, or clingstone, differs from the other type of peach, the freestone, in that its pit clings to the peach fruit, it does not sit loose.* Though cling peaches are more difficult to pit, they do have their advantages. The flesh of cling peaches has a nice golden yellow color, and holds up much better when heated. Cling peaches were first cultivated commercially in the US by a pair of farmers in California† looking to get rich selling canned fruit to hungry gold miners. Peach canning certainly became a lucrative business. The San Francisco Cannery was at one point the largest peach cannery in the nation. As described by the California Cling Peach Board, most cling peaches grown in the US today still get canned: sold whole, pureed in baby food, or chopped up in fruit cocktail.
*If you are like me and enjoy the beautiful names of plant taxonomy, the peach,prunus persica, is a member of the rose family (along with apples, pears, almonds, and most berries). Genus prunus, family rosacaeae, order Rosales, class Magnoliopsida, division Magnophyta. The genus prunusare all fruits with a “drupe” structure, a kernel seed surrounded by fleshy fruit. (Other drupes include almonds, cherries, and plums). Almonds are the only pruni with edible kernels. Peach pits taste awful. Peaches were first domesticated in China, and later flourished in Persia, where it is thought Alexander the Great first encountered them and brought them to Greece. The Romans later introduced the peach to greater Western Europe, and the Spanish first took peaches to the Americas. According to Alan Davidson’s The Oxford Companion to Food, (Oxford University Press, 1999), wild peach trees can still be found in China; most all peaches in the US are domesticated.
†It turns out that the first cling peach farmer, Joseph Phillips, may have had an interesting time on his migrations from Cornwall, England to Yuba City, California: his family’s adventures, including an encounter with Wild Bill Hickman, Brigham Young’s notorious aide-de-camp, are described here.
I have heard that some European chefs use old mechanical typewriters for food preparation. For example by suspending thin strips of veal in front of the metal keys, and hammering them with a few sentences of a favourite poem, it is possible to tenderize the meat with great subtlety. The pastry of petit fours can be imprinted with tiny personal messages. And I am told many older Italians use the rubber roller and paper feed to make very thin sheets of lasagne. As you make the pasta, the ringing sound of the carriage return marks each tasty piece. Emily, have you ever typed on food? If so do you recommend it, and where can I acquire a suitable machine? Should I worry about the cleaning? While I would never want to say no to poetry, I would worry about the cleaning. I might suggest an old and out-of-tune piano instead. As a barbarian of sorts myself, I prefer whacking my meat with regular wooden mallets.
I am unhappy with my career and dream of writing about food for a living. Do you have any advice for how I might break into the food-writing world? If you’ve never written professionally before, I suggest starting a blog, and writing about what you love. As for what to write about, my friend Monica Bhide offers fantastic advice here. Learning how to take great photographs also seems to help, though that’s not a skill I possess. Once you’ve built up some clips and have a sense of your voice, starting pitching any and every outlet you admire, patiently but persistently. Don’t take it personally when your ideas get nixed, and treat every assignment as though it were The New Yorker – take it seriously, be kind to your editors, get your copy in on time, and write beautifully. And then pitch again. As for how to pitch, Dianne Jacob has written a great book, Will Write For Food.
I am unhappy with my career and dream of cooking professionally. Do you have any advice for how I might break into the cooking world? Since cooking is such a unique way of making a living, and because there are several paths you can take, it’s important to get a taste of your options (no pun intended) before taking a career-changing plunge, or debt-inducing trip to culinary school. Professional kitchens can be very welcoming to people with no experience who are willing to work hard. Call a chef you admire and ask if you can volunteer on your days off. Be ready to cut up dozens of lemons, or trim one hundred artichokes – in other words, to do some long-lasting, repetitive tasks – but work quietly and watch the other chefs while you work. You will learn a lot, and get a sense of working on your feet in small spaces. Every restaurant is different, so if you find the first one doesn’t work out, try another – maybe a smaller restaurant, or a large one attached to a hotel, or one that only serves dinner, or a catering company. If you are most interested in culinary school, ask if you can sit in on classes and talk to other culinary school grads to see if they thought the experience was worthwhile.
Did you go to culinary school? No. I learned on the job, with lots of supplementary reading. I am a little prejudiced against them: I think they ask for extraordinary amounts of money to teach things that you can get paid to learn. But many people whom I admire have had wonderful experiences attending them.
Is it necessary to go to culinary school to become a cook or food writer? Definitely not.
What are some of your favorite cookbooks?
• On Food and Cooking, by Harold McGee
• Richard Olney’s Simple French Food
• Patience Gray’s Honey From a Weed
• Lindsay Shere’s Chez Panisse Desserts
• Anything and everything by Nigel Slater.
What are some of your favorite things to cook? Anything fresh and in season. It’s a cliché but it really is much more fun to cook by the weather. Tired, out-of season produce is depressing. I savor it more when I know it’s only here for a little while – spare ribs in the summer time, stews in the winter time, peaches in August, good stuff like that.
You write of a cherry pitter on your website. Do you know of a cling-peach pitter? I do not. But I do know how you can make a homemade cherry pitter: using a wire cutter, trim off the outer loop of a large paper clip, leaving as much of the straight sides as possible. Skewer the ends into a wine cork, and you can use the loop to scoop out cherry pits. That probably needs a diagram but I hope makes some sense. For cling peaches, I use a paring knife.