One particular memory of mine that involves peach cobbler takes place on a summer afternoon, circa 2003. After having played kickball in the streets, all eight of the neighborhood children convened in my dining room for a snack, fresh out of the oven and made by my mother. I recall the cobbler being completely consumed within half an hour.
Sliced, orange peaches, baked under an old-timey biscuit crust. The recipe I'm used to involves buttermilk and a significant amount of cinnamon, but the one below is definitely sufficient.
Peach cobbler, a simple country delight, is one of the many desserts which bring back fond memories of my childhood. Though I didn't grow up anywhere near orchards and fields of black-eyed susans, I acknowledge that the origins of peach cobbler certainly involve rural, Southern farmhouses and generous grandmothers.
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