I'm a peach purist...if I'm going to eat fresh peaches, they are going to be from a roadside stand and have to come from Georgia or South Carolina...which means I don't get to eat fresh peaches all that much. There's one farmer's market on the way to OBX that sells fresh Georgia peaches and they are wonderful! It's like chocolate to me...if I'm going to enjoy, I really just want the best, not some semi-wax chocolate concoction. So, I've never really noticed that eating fresh peaches, skin and all, isn't a good idea for me. I've had tingly lips from it before, but nothing more than that.
Well, Connor loves farms and I was looking for something to do this weekend and he proposed we "go to a farm and pick something." Here it's too late for strawberries and blackberries, almost too late for blueberries, and too early for apples and grapes. That left peaches and who knew you can pick peaches here? We use the http://www.pickyourown.org/ site, even when we travel, to find good farms. I've never been peach picking before, but how hard can it be, right? Thank goodness for my Garmin, because to a city girl, this farm felt like it was at the ends of the earth. We made it to the farm and Connor met the farmer, learned we'd be picking white flesh peaches, which disappointed me a little, but off we went, the only two picking that day.
The orchard was beautiful- remote and surrounded by water, with endless rows of fruit trees. Connor found our row and we began to pick. About 10 minutes into it, we were hot, sweaty, and really itchy. I couldn't figure out what was causing this, but it wasn't enough to keep us from our peaches, so we kept on picking. I ate one small peach in the field, and noticed my lips and face started to tingle. Obviously that taste was not a good idea. After about an hour in the field we ended up picking a little over five pecks, which weighed in just over 50 pounds (What was I thinking I would do with all of these peaches?). Connor and I had a great conversation about God's creation, His gifts, where peach trees come from, how the farmer cares for them just as God cares for us, etc... We payed the farmer and departed, me, very happy that I am not a migrant worker on a farm, a farmer, or a peach picker.
Well, I was still itching like crazy and Connor was too; then he was crying that he was just too itchy. The poor kid had bright red cheeks and was miserable, while I had splotches on my face and small hives developing on my hands. We finally made it home, showered, and besides having a headache and some sinus issues, we were fine. Then today, faced with all of these peaches, I got to work boiling, peeling, cutting, and mashing peaches. After giving away about 20 pounds of peaches to friends and neighbors, I am no Martha Stewart, I decided to attempt to make peach butter. And now that I am taking a break from being elbow deep in peaches, I can say that it is too much damn work. And I am having the same crazy reaction that Connor and I had yesterday- ugh!
Guess what we've since learned? You can be allergic to peach skins, but not the flesh itself! I had no idea, but now I know better. If you already prone to hayfever or pollen allergies, you are also likely to have an allergy to peach skin, but not the flesh. Additionally, 40% of those of Spanish and Italian descent (I am the latter) are prone to this allergy, along with 75% of those from Israeli descent. I was completely shocked to learn this! We also learned that those with allergic reactions to peach skins are also prone to have an allergic reaction to apple skins when apple picking, but not apples in the store, because they have been coated with wax. You can bet this will be first and last attempt at creating peach butter, tree to canning.
Don't get me wrong, I loved feeling connected to the earth, gathering my food, having quiet time with Connor, with no one else around and beautiful landscapes as far as the eye could see. I have a much greater appreciation for those who continuously make homemade items such as jams, jellies, butters, and canned items, such as my Nana, who just brought me currant jelly made fresh from her garden currants. After 5 hours in the kitchen, and a peach butter concoction that must cook overnight, then be placed in sterilized jars, canned, etc., I can definitively say two things: 1. I have a much greater appreciation for anyone who does this on a regular basis, such as our Amish friends, and 2. I'll stock up on canned items and preserves on the next one of our multiple trips to Lancaster, PA.
