Peach Pancakes

Oh no, summer is not over yet. I've been waiting, only somewhat patiently, for the local peaches to ripen and that time is finally here. My mom used to make peach pancakes when I was growing up and the taste takes me right back to childhood summers. We are visiting my mother and my sister's family in Idaho for Labor Day Weekend. This has become an annual road trip over the past several years and this year is extra special because it is the first time we are meeting my new niece Evelyn

First thing on our first morning, Mary Ellen made peach pancakes for us, which we ate slathered with butter and sprinkled with sugar in her lovely and shady backyard. These taste even more delicious when you have a sweet baby on your lap making little newborn mewings and sighs.

Our husbands then took themselves off on their own adventures for the weekend, so my mother, sister and I are having rare girl time to play with the kids, go to the farmer's market, attend a pig roast, play three-handed cribbage and just laugh and chat.

Yesterday we picked up another flat of perfectly ripe peaches from Tonnemaker's Farm at the Moscow Farmer's Market in order to make more peach pancakes. I love this small town market where we run into my sister's friends, play at the playground, dance to the band and stroll with the community.

We had more peach pancakes this morning and I daresay we will be having them the next two mornings also. Here is the recipe my sister uses and my mother approves. Note: You may want to double or triple the recipe. Trust me.

Peach Pancakes
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup milk
1 egg
1 T. baking powder
2 T. sugar
1/4 t salt
3 T. coconut oil

Mix all ingredients together and add fresh diced peaches to the batter.

Another fun recipe that I want to try is the mini peach pies from my cousin Jessica's blog, although I may be too lazy this weekend.

And because he captures the joy of biting into a fresh peach so well, I give you poet Li-Young Lee on peaches:

From Blossoms

From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward   
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into   
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

~ Li-Young Lee

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