By July 2025. Memphis summer, 66 years old, and the heat wraps around Orange Mound like a wet blanket that nobody asked for but everybody wears because that is the deal you make when you live in the South. The smoker calls louder in summer — something about the heat amplifying the smoke, the way humidity amplifies everything in Memphis — and I answer, because answering is what pitmasters do.
Rosetta beside me through the week, steady as ever, the woman who runs this household with the precision of a hospital ward and the heart of a mother who has loved fiercely for 41 years of marriage. The BBQ class at the community center continues — students of all ages learning fire and smoke, and me learning that teaching is its own kind of cooking: you prepare, you present, you hope something sticks.
Baked beans on the smoker — navy beans soaked overnight, simmered with onion, brown sugar, molasses, mustard, and my BBQ sauce, then smoked uncovered at 250 for two hours. The hickory settles into the sauce and transforms ordinary beans into something that belongs at any table, any gathering, any moment when people need to be fed and comforted and reminded that simple food, made with patience, is the best food there is.
Another week in the book. Another seven days of tending fires — the one in the smoker, the one in the marriage, the one in the family, the one in the church. Each fire needs something different: wood, attention, food, faith. But the tending is the same for all of them: show up, add what's needed, wait patiently, trust the process. Low and slow. Always. Low and slow.
All that talk of tending fires — the smoker, the marriage, the church — put me in a mood to use the grate for something light, something that honored the season without asking too much of anyone. July nectarines in Memphis are about as close to perfect as fruit gets, and when you lay them cut-side down on a hot grill for a few minutes, the sugars caramelize in a way that reminds you fire is always transforming things, always making something sweeter than it was before. Rosetta raised an eyebrow at me bringing crostini to the community center class, but the students ate every last piece — and that, to me, is the whole point.
Grilled Nectarine & Cheese Crostini
Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 8 min | Total Time: 18 min | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 4 ripe nectarines, halved and pitted
- 1 French baguette, cut into 1/2-inch rounds (about 16 slices)
- 8 oz whole-milk ricotta cheese
- 2 tbsp honey, plus more for drizzling
- 2 tbsp olive oil, divided
- 1/4 tsp kosher salt
- 1/4 tsp black pepper
- 1 tbsp fresh thyme leaves (or fresh basil, torn)
- Optional: 1 tbsp balsamic glaze for finishing
Instructions
- Heat the grill. Preheat a gas or charcoal grill to medium-high heat (about 400°F). Clean and lightly oil the grates.
- Prepare the nectarines. Brush the cut sides of the nectarine halves with 1 tbsp of the olive oil and season lightly with salt and pepper.
- Grill the nectarines. Place nectarines cut-side down on the grill. Cook undisturbed for 3 to 4 minutes, until grill marks appear and the fruit softens slightly. Remove and let cool for 2 minutes, then slice each half into 4 wedges.
- Toast the crostini. Brush baguette slices on both sides with the remaining 1 tbsp olive oil. Grill for 1 to 2 minutes per side until golden and lightly charred at the edges. Watch closely — they go fast over a hot grate.
- Season the ricotta. In a small bowl, stir together the ricotta, 2 tbsp honey, and a pinch of salt until smooth and creamy.
- Assemble. Spread a generous spoonful of seasoned ricotta on each crostini. Top with 2 to 3 nectarine wedges. Drizzle with additional honey and finish with fresh thyme leaves. Add a light drizzle of balsamic glaze if desired.
- Serve immediately. These are best eaten warm, right off the board, while the bread is still crisp and the fruit is still giving off heat.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 7g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 215mg