By The book contract is signed. It became real on a Friday afternoon when Susan sent the countersigned document and I printed it out and held it in my hands. A physical thing. Words on paper with my name on them. I have until fourteen months from now to deliver the manuscript. Fourteen months to write a book I've apparently been writing for five years without knowing it.
I took the week to just let it settle. Didn't announce it publicly, didn't tell most people yet. Gary and the kids know. My parents know. Debra knows. Kara knows. That's enough for now. The thing doesn't need an audience yet. It needs to be lived with privately for a little while before it belongs to everyone.
I started the actual manuscript this week. Not the proposal — the real book, the chapters. The first chapter is about my grandmother's kitchen in Tennessee. About watching her move through the space like someone who had always been there, always would be. About the way I understood, even as a child, that what she was doing was important. About how I didn't know until much later that I'd spent my whole life trying to recreate the feeling of that kitchen for the people I love.
I wrote seven hundred words and then stopped and reread them and thought: yes. That's the voice. That's the book. The rest will come.
I made my grandmother's peach cobbler this evening. The recipe she made every summer, the one I know by heart. Sliced peaches, a buttery batter poured over them, sugar sprinkled on top, baked until gold and bubbling. The whole family ate it warm from the dish. The way it always should be.
After I put the cobbler dish in the sink and the kids had drifted off to bed, I kept thinking about peaches — about how that one fruit holds so much of my grandmother’s kitchen for me, and how I want to find ways to carry it into ordinary weeknights, not just dessert. This peach chicken has become one of those quiet rituals: sweet and savory and warm in a way that feels, if I’m honest, a little like belonging. It felt exactly right for a week when I was learning, slowly, what it means to claim something as mine.
Peach Chicken
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 6 oz each)
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 3 ripe peaches, pitted and sliced (or 1 1/2 cups canned peach slices, drained)
- 2 tablespoons honey
- 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
- 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme)
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Instructions
- Season the chicken. Pat the chicken breasts dry with paper towels. In a small bowl, combine salt, pepper, garlic powder, and smoked paprika. Rub the seasoning evenly over both sides of each chicken breast.
- Sear the chicken. Heat olive oil in a large oven-safe skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chicken and sear for 4 to 5 minutes per side, until golden brown. The chicken does not need to be cooked through yet. Transfer to a plate and set aside.
- Build the peach sauce. Reduce heat to medium. Add the butter to the same skillet and let it melt. Add the minced garlic and cook for about 30 seconds until fragrant. Add the peach slices, honey, balsamic vinegar, and thyme. Stir gently and cook for 2 to 3 minutes until the peaches begin to soften and the sauce starts to bubble.
- Finish cooking. Nestle the seared chicken breasts back into the skillet, spooning the peach sauce over the top. Reduce heat to medium-low, cover, and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, until the chicken reaches an internal temperature of 165°F.
- Rest and serve. Remove from heat and let the chicken rest for 3 to 5 minutes before serving. Spoon the peach sauce generously over each piece. Serve warm alongside rice, roasted vegetables, or crusty bread.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 340 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 390mg