Peach Crisp Parfait Pops

Halloween week, and Joy called to describe her costume: a "star," which is a cardboard cutout covered in aluminum foil, and the description made me laugh in the way that only Joy can make me laugh — with the full, unguarded laughter that comes from a woman who considers a star costume both feasible and magnificent and who is correct on both counts. Mrs. Patterson sent a photograph. The star was Joy. Joy was the star.

I have submitted the cookbook to two more publishers — a small press in Charleston and a small press in Atlanta. The submitting is becoming a practice, like the cooking, like the writing: you send the manuscript, you wait, you cook, you write, you wait more. The waiting is the work. The work is the waiting. And the cooking is the thing that holds the waiting together.

Mama was present for a moment on Thursday. Not a long moment — three minutes, maybe — during which she looked at me with the focused clarity of a woman who is seeing the daughter she raised and who is recognizing, in the seeing, the woman the daughter has become. She said, "You're busy." I said, "I am, Mama." She said, "Good." And the "good" was the approval, and the approval was the review, and the review was two words: you're busy, good. The busy-ness is the life. The good-ness is the blessing. And the blessing was given in three minutes and will last forever.

I made caramel apples for Halloween — the tradition, the slow caramel, the instruction that lives in my hands now. "Slow, Naomi." I hear it. I say it to myself. The instruction has been passed. The passing is complete. And the caramel is perfect, because the instruction was perfect, because the woman who gave it was perfect, in the way that imperfect women are perfect: through love, through practice, through the refusal to let the caramel burn.

The caramel apples were for Joy and for tradition and for Mama’s instruction living in my hands. But after I’d wrapped the last one in cellophane, I still had that restless need to make something — something cold and layered and sweet, the kind of thing you eat standing at the counter while the October light goes gold through the kitchen window. These parfait pops are that thing: a treat on a stick, like the caramel apples, but lighter, bright with peach and crunch, the sort of recipe that asks you to slow down and layer carefully, one thing on top of another, the way blessings stack up when you let them.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 4 hours 30 minutes (includes freezing) | Servings: 8 pops

Ingredients

2 cups fresh or frozen peaches, peeled and diced
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 cup vanilla yogurt
1/4 cup honey
1/2 cup granola
2 tablespoons butter, melted
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
Pinch of salt

Instructions

Make the peach layer. In a small saucepan over medium heat, cook the diced peaches with granulated sugar and lemon juice, stirring occasionally, until softened and slightly jammy, about 8 minutes. Let cool completely.
Make the crisp crumble. In a small skillet over medium-low heat, toss the granola with melted butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Toast, stirring frequently, until golden and fragrant, about 2 minutes. Transfer to a plate and let cool.
Mix the yogurt layer. Stir together the vanilla yogurt and honey until smooth.
Layer the pops. Spoon a small layer of the cooled peach mixture into the bottom of each pop mold, followed by a layer of the yogurt mixture, then a sprinkle of crisp crumble. Repeat the layers until the molds are full, ending with yogurt on top.
Insert sticks and freeze. Insert a pop stick into each mold and freeze until solid, at least 4 hours or overnight.
Unmold and serve. Run warm water briefly over the outside of each mold to release the pops. Serve immediately or wrap individually in parchment and store in the freezer.

Nutrition (per serving)

Peach Crisp Parfait Pops — The Sweet Thing You Make While You Wait