Those of you who have been following my peach tree saga and the battle against the squirrels will understand the depths of my satisfaction here. This particular peach was bruised a little from pressing against a branch, so I cut into it a little early, before it was quite ripe — still tasty, though, and I’ll grill the slices to soften and bring out the sweetness.
There are still close to a hundred peaches on the five-year-old tree, and I am watching them like a hawk to spot them as they ripen (no green left, slight give when you press, ripens on outside and top of tree first) and snatch them before the squirrels do.