Strawberry Peach Crisp

The spring pale ale is done and it's my favorite thing I've brewed this year. Bright, citrusy, with Mosaic hops that give it a tropical note without being obnoxious about it. The head brewer tried it and said, "Ship it." Two words. That's his way. We're putting it on tap next week and I'm unreasonably nervous, the way you get nervous when something you made is about to be judged by strangers. Brewing is personal. Every batch is a little piece of you, poured into a glass, handed to someone who has no idea what went into it.

Megan's Wauwatosa apartment is half empty. She's been moving things over in stages — boxes of books, kitchen stuff she'll never use (a pasta maker still in the box, a blender from 2018, a set of mixing bowls that look unused because they are unused), clothes, photos. Her apartment looks like someone is leaving it, which she is. My apartment looks like someone is arriving, which she is. The transition period is messy and exciting and we argue about closet space approximately once a day.

Made a big Sunday dinner for Tom and Linda — just the three of us, no Megan this week because she was packing. Pierogi, golabki, mashed potatoes, sauerkraut. The full spread. Linda asked about the move-in. She's excited about it in the way that mothers are excited about anything that moves their sons closer to grandchildren, though she has the decency to not say that part out loud. Tom ate his dinner and said nothing about the move-in and then, as I was leaving, said, "Your mother's happy." Which is Tom-speak for "I'm happy."

June pierogi challenge is already forming in my head: strawberry and farmer's cheese. A sweet pierogi, like Babcia used to make with blueberries. But strawberry, because summer, because the farmers market will be exploding with Wisconsin strawberries by June. The idea of it makes me feel closer to Babcia. Innovation within tradition. That's the whole game.

The strawberry pierogi idea is still a few weeks out — the farmers market has to catch up first — but I needed something to scratch that same itch right now: fresh, bright, a little ambitious, and built around the fruit that makes Wisconsin worth living in. This Strawberry Peach Crisp hit every note. It’s the same spirit as the pale ale: simple ingredients doing something better than they have any right to. Made it for myself on Sunday after Tom and Linda left, the apartment a little quieter than usual, and it felt like the right kind of reward for a week that had a lot of moving parts, literally and otherwise.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 cups fresh strawberries, hulled and halved
2 cups fresh or thawed frozen peach slices, cut into chunks
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
3/4 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes

Instructions

Preheat. Heat your oven to 350°F. Lightly butter an 8x8-inch baking dish or equivalent.
Prep the fruit filling. In a large bowl, toss the strawberries and peaches with the granulated sugar, cornstarch, vanilla extract, and lemon juice until everything is evenly coated. Pour into the prepared baking dish and spread into an even layer.
Make the crisp topping. In a separate bowl, stir together the oats, flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, and salt. Add the cold butter cubes and use your fingertips to work the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture resembles coarse, clumpy crumbs with some pea-sized pieces remaining. Do not overwork it — you want those chunks.
Assemble and bake. Scatter the crisp topping evenly over the fruit. Bake uncovered for 38 to 42 minutes, until the topping is deep golden and the fruit is bubbling at the edges.
Rest before serving. Let the crisp sit for at least 10 minutes before serving. Serve warm, plain or with a scoop of vanilla ice cream or a spoonful of whipped cream.

Nutrition (per serving)

Strawberry Peach Crisp — When the Farmers Market Starts Calling Your Name