The Pit-Falls Of Neglecting The Georgia Peach.

To be honest, my cooking has been a bit flat as of late. I use the word “flat” to assure you that bites have been as off to the tongue as a sour note would be to one’s ear.

If cooking were ever a rhythmic, musical endeavor then I have been blowing my horn to the best of my lung capacity, completely out of tune. Not unlike this poor girl:

A recent attempt at chocolate soufflé, for example, was a late evening endeavor meant to be taken as lightly as beaten egg whites and turned out to be as dark and loathsome as a thunder cloud.

(okay, no thunder cloud, but you get the idea)

When this happens, the leftovers are dumped and all that stands witness to a major kitchen flop are piles of wretched looking dishes sulking with goo and giving off the air of a resentful pet.

(Goes without saying that I didn’t bother with a picture, not even of the corroded ramekins I spent the better part of an hour soaking and scrubbing.)

All I can say is, thank God my husband has a sense of humor, and that I’m not (always) too easily offended, because when he took one bite we doubled over laughing. My hope is that it won’t gross you out completely if I told you the eggs were so over-baked John said my soufflé tasted like a rancid fart (one of his, of course!). And then he looked at me like this.

What to do, what to do…

There you have it. Write a lame blog entry (I'm so sorry). Forget about the 6 wasted eggs, chuckle about the foul smell comment and go eat a peach. After all, with the heavenly goodness of local summertime fruits (and veggies, and everything) what am I doing trying to make a soufflé? The peaches I’m eating are better than anything I could make anyway. Silly me. I like how this local food brings us back around to our senses.

P.S. When I get my mojo back, I'm going to try THIS. If you get a chance to make it before I do, please let me know how it is. Or, even better, be a peach? Share your favorite recipe? I'd love you all the more, if that were possible.