Peach Caprese Salad -- Connecticut Peaches, No Apologies

First week of the new rhythm. Mami's aides have the mornings and evenings. I have the afternoons. Eduardo has the garden. The tomatoes are coming in hot — we had fifteen Sungolds ripen on Monday alone — and I have, despite my own objections, become the designated tomato preserver. I am making a sauce. I am freezing it. I am telling Eduardo that if the tomatoes keep producing this aggressively I am going to have to buy a second freezer. Eduardo says he will buy a second freezer. I said that is not necessary. He said he is buying the second freezer on Saturday. He is buying the second freezer.

The notebook has seven recipes now. Pasteles is the big one I am trying to write this week. Pasteles is the hardest recipe because the process is so elaborate and so intuitive. I have written four pages already. The green bananas. The yautía. The achiote oil. The masa. The filling. The banana leaves. The string. The folding. The boiling. Each section is its own essay. I am writing it all down.

Thursday Mami came for our notebook session. She read the pasteles chapter so far. She said, "Carmen, your grandmother always added a small piece of bacon to the filling." I said, "Mami, I know. I wrote that in the margin." She said, "You did not write it prominently enough. Put it in the main recipe." I moved it. She said, "The achiote oil — how much?" I said, "Mami, three tablespoons." She said, "Your grandmother used four. But four was too much. Three is correct." I wrote it down. She said, "You are writing it right, Carmen." High praise. I took it.

After our hour of dictation she got tired. She asked to take a nap. I tucked her in on her couch. I covered her with the blanket she loves — the one I knitted in 2002 when I had three months of insomnia, which is how I know how to knit — and I sat in her kitchen and wrote more while she slept. When she woke up at 3 PM I gave her café con leche. She drank it slowly. She said, "Carmen, I love you." I said, "I love you, Mami." It was a small sentence. It landed heavy.

Saturday Eduardo and I went to the Connecticut Farmer's Market in downtown Hartford. I had not been in years. We bought corn, peaches, a small pumpkin, and a jar of local honey. I made a peach cobbler Sunday for dinner. A peach cobbler is not Puerto Rican. But peaches are in season, Connecticut peaches, and I am fifty-seven years old and I am allowed to cook cross-culturally without apology. The cobbler was good. Eduardo ate two bowls. Mami, on FaceTime from her apartment, said, "What is that?" I said, "A peach cobbler, Mami." She said, "Not Puerto Rican." I said, "I know, Mami." She said, "Looks good." Wepa.

The cobbler got Eduardo’s full attention, but it was those Connecticut peaches that stayed with me — their color, their weight in my hand, the way they smelled like every good thing about August. I had a few left over on Sunday afternoon, and while Mami’s approval of the cobbler still felt warm in my chest (“Looks good” from Mami is a standing ovation), I wanted something lighter, something that let the peach be the point. A Peach Caprese Salad is not Puerto Rican either, and I remain unapologetic about that — it is simple, it is seasonal, and it is exactly the kind of recipe that earns its place in any notebook.

Peach Caprese Salad

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 3 ripe peaches, pitted and sliced into 1/4-inch wedges
• 8 oz fresh mozzarella, sliced into 1/4-inch rounds
• 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves
• 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 tablespoon local honey
• 1 tablespoon balsamic glaze
• 1/4 teaspoon flaky sea salt
• 1/8 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper

Instructions

1. Slice and arrange. Fan the peach slices and mozzarella rounds alternately on a large serving platter, overlapping slightly so each bite gets both.
2. Tuck in the basil. Nestle whole basil leaves between the peach and mozzarella slices throughout the platter.
3. Drizzle the oil and honey. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil and honey until loosely combined, then drizzle evenly over the entire salad.
4. Finish with balsamic. Drizzle the balsamic glaze over the top in a slow, thin stream for even coverage.
5. Season and serve. Sprinkle with flaky sea salt and cracked black pepper. Serve immediately at room temperature for the best flavor.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 220 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 310mg