Summer with a hint of easy

I don’t know that anyone could conjure up anything more wonderful than the fresh, ripe, juicy nectarines I’ve been eating recently. Even eating them I’m so excited by the next dripping sweet bite that I rush through the whole thing with nothing to show but a pit and a sticky hand (which I lick).

Stone fruit, or any tree fruit, I was just recently told, doesn’t grow everywhere. If I’m ever to be a genuine locavore, those places are herewith crossed off my list. But my food fanaticism has less to do with location than quality, so I refuse to engage in premature concern. My second ‘however’ relates to the unlikelihood of coming to such a pass, considering this is new knowledge and does not apply to any of the places I’ve lived within my memory years.

The now only slightly tacky hand writing this, earlier made a nectarine sorbet base. I did it somewhat like a jam and somewhat like a poach. I started by making a heavy syrup with 3 pounds of sugar, added 7 pounds of fruit, and a ½ cup of lemon juice, then cooked them until the fruit exploded against the pot with gentle pressure.

I pureed and strained the whole while still warm. A tester came along with her spoon about then for verification purposes and exclaimed, “Oh! It tastes like summer!” Oh, and it does taste like summer today again and again, every single bite and lick of it.