A Great Peach??!??!?!?!!??

I grew up in a little house in Oak Cliff that my dad and my grandfather built. We had a peach tree in our back yard. Actually we had a few peach trees, and every summer I would go out back with my grandfather or grandmother - who lived next door - and pick warm, ripe peaches. I'll never forget the way those peaches tasted. Mostly because those peaches had a lot in common with pretty much every peach sold in every grocery store in America: they were dry, hard, and almost flavorless...

...not at all like the treasures I found this past weekend at the farmer's market down the street:

The Holy Grail

These peaches are fragrant and colorful on the outside, juicy and perfectly soft on the inside.  The flavor explodes in your mouth.  Eating fruit like this makes you realize how God-awful mass-market produce really is.  I mean, I have literally examined hundreds of supermarket peaches and you could drive nails with them, they're so hard.  They're like little fuzzy baseballs.

I know I'm going to regret saying this because, selfishly, I want to be the only one "in the know" on these guys, but go to the corner of Beltline and the Tollway on Saturday or Sunday if you live anywhere near Big D.  Look for the Italian guy drooling on himself.  That will be me...I will be near the peaches.