The news segment brought calls. Phone calls. To the church. To me. Parents asking about Set the Table. A school principal asking if I'd consider running a version at her school. A local nonprofit asking if I need funding. FUNDING. The word I've never associated with scrambled eggs and Saturday mornings is now in my vocabulary, sitting there like a new ingredient I haven't figured out how to use yet. I told the nonprofit, "Let me think about it." Derek, who manages projects for a living, said, "Think fast. Funding has a window." He's right. But I need to think about what funding means — about whether money changes the thing, about whether institutional support is the same as institutional control, about whether Mama's kitchen can survive being organized by someone with a spreadsheet.
Fourth of July approaching. The summer calendar fills itself: Derek's apartment for a cookout (his first time hosting — we're using his small balcony grill, which I privately believe cannot produce adequate ribs but which I will support enthusiastically because the man is trying). Marcus is at summer debate camp again — Emory, two weeks, Terrell paying half. Jasmine is at choir camp. The house is quiet from 8 to 4, which gives me work hours (summer program at school) and thinking hours (Set the Table future) and cooking hours (always cooking hours; the kitchen doesn't take summers off).
Made peach ice cream from scratch — fresh Georgia peaches, cream, sugar, vanilla, the ice cream maker that I bought at a yard sale in 2017 and have used exactly four times, all in July. The ice cream was obscene. Thick, peachy, the kind of cold that makes your teeth sing. Marcus came home from camp and ate a bowl and said, "Why don't we eat this every day?" I said, "Because it takes two hours and costs twelve dollars in peaches." He said, "Worth it." He's not wrong.
After Marcus declared that peach ice cream was “worth it” at twelve dollars and two hours, I started thinking about what else those Georgia peaches could do — because when you find a good flat at the farmers’ market, you don’t just buy enough for one recipe. With the house quiet during camp hours and my mind already sorting through what “funding” and “institutional support” might mean for Set the Table, I needed something to do with my hands that felt purposeful and uncomplicated: a peach chili sauce that you make in one pot, put in jars, and know exactly what it is. No spreadsheet required.
Peach Chili Sauce
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 48 (makes about 6 half-pint jars)
Ingredients
- 6 cups fresh peaches, peeled and finely chopped (about 4–5 large Georgia peaches)
- 1 cup sweet onion, finely chopped
- 1 cup red bell pepper, finely chopped
- 1 cup cider vinegar
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 1/2 teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes
- 1 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/4 teaspoon allspice
- 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Instructions
- Prep the peaches. Peel, pit, and finely chop the peaches. The ripest, most fragrant peaches you can find will give you the deepest flavor — this is not the place for a hard peach.
- Combine in pot. Add the peaches, onion, red bell pepper, cider vinegar, and lemon juice to a large heavy-bottomed saucepan. Stir to combine.
- Add spices. Stir in the sugar, red pepper flakes, ginger, cinnamon, salt, allspice, and black pepper until well incorporated.
- Bring to a boil. Place the pot over medium-high heat and bring the mixture to a full rolling boil, stirring frequently to prevent scorching at the bottom.
- Simmer and reduce. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer uncovered for 40–45 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce thickens and the liquid has reduced by roughly one-third. The color will deepen to a rich amber-gold.
- Taste and adjust. Taste for seasoning. Add a pinch more red pepper flakes if you want more heat, or a teaspoon more sugar if your peaches were tart.
- Jar and cool. Ladle hot sauce into clean half-pint jars, leaving 1/4-inch headspace. Wipe rims, seal, and allow to cool completely on the counter. Refrigerate for up to 3 weeks, or process in a water bath canner for shelf-stable storage.
Nutrition (per serving, approximately 2 tablespoons)
Calories: 28 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 7g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 24mg