Peachy Coffee Cake

The early peaches started coming in here in Tennessee at the end of June, and although there was a lull in varieties ripening last week, by mid-July (in just a few days) peaches should be in full-swing. Before I started canning, I only purchased a few peaches a year--beyond eating them fresh and baking with them, I didn't quite know what to do with them. I especially didn't know about the versatility of peaches--I never thought that they could be made into a salsa, or a barbeque sauce, or peach butter. I made all three (slightly different versions) last year, and kept being surprised by the ways in which peaches could be transformed by the different flavors and textures. So far (already this year), I've made a batch of barbeque sauce and taught a canning class on the peach salsa; both came out exceptionally well, and I've gotten a few incredibly enthusiastic reviews of the barbeque sauce (what can I say, I took it to a party where there was a hot grill and some corn, asparagus, and zucchini--of course they got slathered in the sauce and grilled!). But what I'm trying to say is--if it's just minutes away from being peach season again, the peaches that were canned last year need to be consumed as soon as possible.

Last year, I also canned peaches in light syrup, and we'd been enjoying them in our cereal and in fancy rum drinks; when I checked in the pantry, there was a lone jar of these very peaches still left, right next to a jar of peach butter. I took out the jars and carried them around with me for a little while before I remembered a fall-inspired coffee cake from Celine Steen's The Complete Guide to Vegan Food Substitutions. The original recipe uses ginger syrup, roasted apples, and apple sauce to add moisture and sweetness to the cake--and I have to say, the original recipe makes one of the most wonderful coffee cakes I've ever had. However, the peaches also work wonderfully well, and provided me with a good opportunity to use up those last few jars before I put up this year's harvest. 

Ingredients:

For the cake:                                                                            For the Streusel:
1 cup peach syrup (from canned peaches)                       1/2 cup pecan halves, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup peach butter                                                               1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup vegetable or canola oil                                            1 teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 cup whole wheat flour                                                    2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 cup all purpose flour                                                                                
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 cup canned peach halves, diced

Process:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9" round cake pan or an 8" square pan.

In a medium bowl, combine peach syrup, peach butter, and oil. In a large bowl, sift together flours, baking powder, salt, and spices. In a separate small bowl, combine the streusel ingredients and set aside.

Fold wet cake ingredients into dry, being careful not to overmix. Fold in the diced peaches.

Pour the batter into the greased pan and spread so the batter covers the pan evenly. Sprinkle streusel evenly on top.

Bake for 35-40 minutes, until the cake is golden brown and firm in the center. Transfer to a wire rack and cool before removing from the pan.
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The cake isn't overly sweet, and isn't overly peachy--it's everything I want in a coffee cake: slightly crumbly, moist, and flavorful. If you don't have the peachy ingredients available, now you have a good reason to put up peaches so you can make this coffee cake later in the year.

Re-examining Stewardship

A little while ago, as I was in the process of writing the essay on stewardship for the Urban Land Scouts blog, I was talking my ideas over with Matt, and he said, "When you talk about 'stewardship,' you're still talking about a hierarchical relationship of people to everything else--nature, resources, animals. I realize that it's not within the scope of your essay, but you should think about what 'stewardship' really means." I've been thinking about it ever since then, and thought that I'd share some of my thoughts with you.

To me, stewardship has religious connotations--in the sense that stewardship is the equivalent of dominion over plants and animals, as dictated by a higher power. Of course in that sense, stewardship still implies responsibility and a more heightened sense of awareness. However, it still definitely describes a system where people are overlords of everything else--nature, animals, resources--just using everything, but more responsibly, perhaps. If a steward is "a person whose responsibility it is to take care of something," there is the implied power given to people; it does not necessarily mean that people should be consistent, or doing everything within their power to make the environment better, through sustainable and responsible practices. (You see how difficult it is to shift from our normal way of thinking? I'm having trouble even wording this...)

What I mean is that even when adopting the notions of stewardship, we believe ourselves to have the most control, to have the best solutions for the troubles that we create in the first place. The solution of retaining power, but using it a little more responsibly only sounds better; but how much does it really accomplish? If stewardship just reaffirms the rather unnatural position of human superiority, how do we re-order our thinking to make ourselves a part of nature, rather than an entity superior to everything else? How do we get to a point where it's not even a matter of instituting stewardship, but a matter of maintaining a close correspondence with nature, recognizing ourselves as a part of it?

When I visited Narrow Ridge Earth Literacy Center last month, Bill, the grounds manager, talked about a different way of living in the world. Everyone at Narrow Ridge lives off the grid, uses composting toilets, small wind turbines, and solar panels, collects rain water for bathing and uses spring water for drinking. They also live in sustainably-built houses--most are straw-bale houses, others are built from the trees growing right there on the land. Bill explained that they view technological advances as part of the natural processes, and utilize them to benefit both them and their environment. I keep thinking of ways that I could occupy a more fitting role; I know that veganism is a part of it--I'll keep you posted on other things as I discover them.

Taking Stock

This morning for breakfast, we had scones with strawberry preserves, which were my first canning attempt at jam last year. And it's not really a jam, but strawberries in a thick syrup--which is just fine for scones, but I'm already thinking of ways I can make it better this year. I know it's only January, but I'm already thinking of May. And because in my mind I'm already gearing up for the strawberry season of this year, I'm taking stock of what we have, in terms of canned items. Last year was the first year we were serious about putting up, and I know that I got pretty excited about certain things and made too many, while we're already almost out of others (canned tomatoes, apple sauce, etc.).

Keep track, keep track! If I keep better track of the things that we make and the kinds of things that we're more likely to use, I think I can extend the list of things that I will never have to buy again pre-made. And besides, I like this kind of know-how, this kind of independence from unknown entities of food production (which is also dependence on the seasons, the local farmers, and my own ability to make time for making these things).