← Back to Blog

Homemade Peach Cobbler — The Taste of Late August, Made to Last

Late August and the heat is finally breaking. You can feel it in the evenings—the air a few degrees less, the quality of the light changing, the particular late-August smell of things turning from peak to the beginning of the end. I love this week of the year and I love it more now that there's Liam to watch it through. He doesn't know the summer is ending. He knows there are bugs and outside and his fire escape tomatoes and tomorrow and that's the complete picture from here.

Meghan brought Aidan over on Saturday. He's almost five months now and sitting with support and looking at everything with the alert curiosity of a baby who is ahead of where Liam was at the same age, which Meghan says with maternal pride and I say nothing about because I'm a nurse and I know babies develop on their own timelines and also because Meghan's pride is entirely correct and she's allowed it. Aidan and Liam on the living room floor together: Liam toddling around and Aidan watching from the bouncer with the undivided attention of someone who wants very much to be doing what the other person is doing.

I made a peach and blueberry crumble with the last good peaches of August and the first good blueberries of the end of the season, which coincide for maybe two weeks every year and which I always try to catch. The crumble has brown sugar and oats and butter and you eat it warm with cream and it is the exact flavor of late August and I don't want to be dramatic about a crumble but it is the kind of thing I want to make for Liam every August for the rest of his life.

The crumble I made that Saturday — with the brown sugar and oats and butter, eaten warm with cream — is the kind of recipe that only works if you catch it at the right moment, when the peaches are heavy and just starting to give. This cobbler is its closest cousin: same impulse, same urgency, same need to mark the exact week before the season tips over. If you’ve got good peaches right now, this is what you do with them.

Homemade Peach Cobbler

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

  • 6 cups fresh peaches, peeled and sliced (about 6 medium peaches)
  • 3/4 cup granulated sugar, divided
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1/2 cup whole milk
  • 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
  • 1 tablespoon brown sugar, for topping

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Butter a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
  2. Macerate the peaches. Toss the sliced peaches with 1/4 cup of the granulated sugar, the lemon juice, and vanilla. Let sit for 10 minutes while you prepare the batter.
  3. Make the batter. Whisk together the flour, remaining 1/2 cup sugar, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon. Stir in the milk and melted butter until just combined — a few lumps are fine.
  4. Assemble. Pour the batter into the prepared baking dish. Spoon the peach mixture evenly over the top. Do not stir — the batter will rise around the peaches as it bakes.
  5. Add topping and bake. Sprinkle the brown sugar over the surface. Bake for 38–42 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted into the batter portion comes out clean.
  6. Rest and serve. Let the cobbler cool for at least 10 minutes before serving. Spoon into bowls warm, with heavy cream or vanilla ice cream.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 265 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 135mg

Kate Donovan
About the cook who shared this
Kate Donovan
Week 178 of Kate’s 30-year story · Boston, Massachusetts
Kate is a thirty-five-year-old nurse practitioner in Boston and a widowed mother of two whose husband Sean died of brain cancer at thirty-three. She makes Irish soda bread and beef stew and shepherd's pie because the recipes are all she has left of a man who was supposed to grow old with her. She writes about cooking through grief and finding out you can still feed your children on the worst day of your life.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?