Apprentice Homemaker...attack of the peaches!

WARNING: To all of you peach activists, do NOT continue. The following post may contain matter offensive to your sensibilities. In the name of our friendship, move on to the next post!

For everyone else, I like to take you into one of my many attempts toward becoming a homemaker extraordinairre. I have a friend (Hi Lynette) who has already reached queen homemaker status. Last year she invited me to her house to show me how to can peaches. Well, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to learn at the feet of a master canner, so I graciously accepted. When I walked into her kitchen, it was as if I had entered a chem lab: vapors rising, bubbling foreign equipment, protective gloves, and unexplainable liquids. This place would have given CSI a run for its money. Lynette flitted about like a butterfly while I tried to memorize her every step. First of all, did you know you boil peaches, put them in a sink of ice, and then the skin comes right off? It's like magic. To tell you the truth (not any fault of Lynettes), I didn't quite pick it all up. There was a bunch of equipment I was introduced to whose names I quickly forgot. I do believe she had a camp stove outside...that's right, a camp stove. Leslie + campstove = imaginary scenario. Plus, the steps involved in correctly canning peaches could put any forensic investigation to shame. So, the main thing I learned was how to get the skin off peaches. This came in very handy this year when I decided to try to freeze peach cobbler/pie filling and fruit salad (Lynette's recipe of course).

A couple weeks ago Lynette called me and said she was getting some peaches and asked if I wanted any. I was thrilled to tell her I would take 2 boxes. When I went to pick up the peaches, she had a spare box of pears and asked if I wanted it. Need she even ask? Of course the apprentice would take pears, especially after attaining the special power of getting the peel of peaches. So, with a smile on my face and dreams of peach yumminess in my head, I took my three boxes (fine, I'm not THAT strong, Lynette & Doug had to help me), put them in my trunk, and headed home. Finally the day came to make all my peach dreams come true. Poor little peaches didn't know what hit them. I did the peach cobbler filling the first day. It was like I had photographic memory or something, all the training on how to get the peels of just came flooding back to me (hey, we all have our talents, don't be jealous). So, I boiled, froze, peeled, stabbed, and pitted those plump little spheres until my back hurt and I thought I would throw up from all the poorly cut pieces I had to ingest. Overall, the day went well and I felt one step closer to homemaker glory.

Two days later it was time to try the frozen fruit salad. I've been told to never hide your talents under a bushel, so I put into practice my peach peeling procedure. Between peaches, I cut grapes, added the rest of the ingredients to the big bowl, and saved the bananas and pears for last. It was time to do the pears and I was ready. I put my first group of pears in the boiling water and I might have heard a tiny, almost inaudible scream. Then I scooped them out and put them in ice water. It was magic time, I took one pear out and tried to take the skin off, but to my dismay the skin was a little stubborn. Have you ever tried to remove one of those dark, long shoe marks from linoleum or hardwood floors? That is exactly what it's like to get the skin off a pear. I think it's one of a pears adaptations to keep itself safe. It worked, after the second batch of pears, I gave up. I'm so ashamed. I rationalized that my big bowl would overflow if I skinned all those pears and that pears aren't as good as the other fruit in the salad, but the truth is that the pears won. Well, kind of. I handed those pears out to all sorts of neighbors and they'll get their just deserves in the end! So, the quest for homemaker greatness is still a long way in the future!