Ah, wanton summer dusks. A pink glow lingering in the wide sky, the lightest of breezes chasing the warm evening, a rustle in the avocado leaves–and a spot of summer dessert to help the sun go down.
Currant tomatoes and Meyer lemons are balking on the bough, evergreen, so to scratch my culinary itch I turned to the only source of food closer to my kitchen than the garden– the abundant and under-raided pantry. In it, a tube of Odense almond paste. Perfect. David Lebovitz had just posted an almond cake adapted from Lindsey Shere and promised it could come together entirely in the food processor.
The unusual, nearly-flourless batter cooked up beautifully and I thought I’d just take half of it, wrapped in foil, to my parents’ for dinner.
But then I sliced: and therein, the most extraordinary, delicate, tight-laced moist crumb of a summer poundcake.
It needed ice cream.
It wanted peach.
Inevitably, the white peach sorbet two doors down on DavidLebovitz.com came to mind. I loved the idea: “made from halved white peaches, pitted, but not even peeled.” A hop and a skip on Google landed me at this recipe in the LA Times: peaches, sugar, yogurt, done. Not Italian premium gelato, perhaps, but a perfect fit for fitless summer cooking. It came together in seconds.
And there we were: the fading light, the cooing birds. The gelato just frozen. And in the space between the pitted peach and the almond crumb, the shameless, needless, boundless taste of summer.