Peachy Keen

One of my readers requested a blog entry with 'Georgia Peaches' at its center.  For two weeks, the idea  ripened, transforming from green to yellow to blush, but each time I tried to pick it, my mind wandered to another orchard in some other meadow. 

Originally, a witty poem seemed the right way to go, considering this particular reader is a redheaded powerhouse of a gal with a sly sense of humor who hails from Georgia by way of  Ohio.  With 23 years of living invested in 'The Empire State of the South,' she's all Georgia peaches and cream.  Her friendships and fond memories, those formative high school and college years, not to mention that lilting accent -- with just a smidgen of Valley Girl courtesy of early childhood exposure to California -- all can be blamed on Tennessee's gracious Southern neighbor.  And the way she waxes on about college football come fall, you'd a thunk Georgia popularized the bulldog instead of the English and French!  Though I've never actually had cause to see her bleed, I'm certain she would ooze sticky peach juice.

But the poem refused to take form.  So, I wandered online to educate myself a bit on the ACTUAL Georgia peach.  Interestingly enough, though I dabble in horticulture, my interest in peaches never ventured beyond drinking the most sublime Bellini (white peach puree and cold Italian prosecco are a must!) and a mental snapshot I hold of consuming generous servings of homemade ice cream at one of my grandpa's huge birthday parties (full fat milk and cream from his dairy, coupled with locally grown road stand peaches harvested at the peak of flavor perfection).  I daresay those California peaches my aunt bought for that batch of frozen confection goodness wouldn't have been around in such copious quantities if a certain young man in Georgia had not followed his heart and his head back in the late 1800's.

Though Georgia now grows 40 different varieties of peaches and produces 140 million pounds annually, it all started with a boy raised on a family plantation in Macon County.  Well, let's back up for a bit of pre-history.  Peaches arrived in Georgia by way of Franciscan monks who planted them along the coastal islands in the 1500's with stock originally grown in Florida.  In the mid-1700's, the Cherokee Indians cultivated them inland.  A confederate officer and farmer was credited with the first successful shipping and selling of peaches in the mid-1800's; he also introduced Champagne baskets in place of pulverized charcoal for transport, which I deem a highly appropriate move, considering the Bellini (which was not created until 1943).

Now, back to the boy, one Samuel H. Rumph, all grown up and intensely curious about experimenting with fruit trees.  After more than a decade of such leanings, he produced a standout specimen: a clear seeded peach with yellow flesh and a crimson blush on its cheek which impressed those in such circles as his.  It became known as the Elberta peach, named after his wife.  This variety was flavorful, shipped well, adapted to all manner of climates, and soon reigned supreme in the peach world. 

The Elberta, which was distributed in the newly designed packing crates Mr. Rumph also developed, transformed the peach industry into a successful and lucrative business, with Georgia at it's center, proud of its designation as The Peach State.  Macon County still holds top billing in this market all these many years later.  The Elberta is not one of the 40 species of peaches grown in Georgia today, but that only speaks to the continued evolution of one of nature's most delicious and charming fruits.  And I confess to seeking out the label to ensure I'm getting a bagful of pure Southern sunshine every time I buy.

Grandma Rita's homemade jam or cobbler with cream, anyone?