|A Slice of Peach Pie|
I met interesting people like original Freedom Singer, Rutha Harris and learned of bridge builder Horace King in Albany. I visited fun attractions like Tank Town, where I drove a tank, basked in the beauty of Callaway Gardens, and fished on West Point Lake in LaGrange with top bass pro fisherman Keith Poche.
|Driving a Tank|
Andersonville- site of a Civil War POW camp and Warm Springs, where I saw the bed that FDR died in. I even stopped by Jimmy Carter’s boyhood home and HighSchool.
|The Famous Peanut of Plains, GA|
|FDR's Bed in the Little White House, Warm Springs, GA|
Boy, did I eat. I ate in more fabulous restaurants than my waistline could hold, but day after day I struck out-- no pie. Peach Cobbler was fairly easy to find, and I ordered it. Sadly, each time I found cobbler made from canned peaches.
Then, one morning I came across fresh peach topped French toast at the Bitter Brick in Columbus. The dish made a yummy breakfast, but was not as yummy as my imagined pie.
|Peaches and Creamy Pie|
|Tim Mercier in his orchards.|
So here’s the reason for the lack of fresh peach pie: peaches must be picked at the right time - when sweet enough - and consumed or processed within days.
Fortunately the next day my itinerary called for me to return home with my goodies. Then, on the twelfth day of peach pie hunting, my true love came to me. I made myself a deep-dish delight.
I prepared the crust using my food processor, and then blanched the peaches in boiling water for about 30 seconds. The skins practically fell off.. I sliced them and added a bit of lemon juice, almond extract and a dusting of sugar, flour and cinnamon.