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Peach season is here, so we've rounded up 11 metro Atlanta peach dishes to try—from doughnuts to salads to ice cream to lumpia.
While a graduate student at Georgia State, Smith started bagging peaches on Saturdays to earn a little pocket change and quickly realized he much preferred that to a future of corporate number crunching. Today he spreads the gospel of fresh peaches through farmers market stands and his traveling Georgia Peach Truck.
Hurry, before summer leaves us and the peaches are gone, check out this fun recipe using my latest kitchen gadget, the Basque Plancha. Think of it as a flame-fueled flattop. In Spain, they use it to cook vegetables, meat, and seafood. I’ve ever seen friends make dessert on it. A regular grill works too.
Long before Roberts learned how to toy with foie gras under Guenter Seeger, another mentor showed him moves in the kitchen: his mom, Jean Roberts. Today, some of her best creations—like her creamy macaroni and cheese—are signatures at Community Q.
The Mexicans—thirty-two of them—wait for the pickup truck. They are dressed, almost to a man, in dirty jeans, boots, long sleeves, and baseball caps. Some wear bandannas to shield their necks and ears from legions of gnats. The rising late-summer sun is starting to cut through the morning mist that clings to the orchards and fallow pastures of Peach County like a thin coat of fuzz.
David Sweeney is best known for the stunning salads and vegan creations he served at his still-missed Old Fourth Ward restaurant, Dynamic Dish, which closed in 2010. He was born in Fort Gordon, Georgia, but his military family moved to Europe when he was young, and he lived there for nearly three decades.
Five years ago, you would have had trouble finding Georgia’s most iconic fruit at a local farmers market. Peaches, like Vidalia onions, are usually grown on large commercial farms and distributed nationally through a system that gives little preference to local retail outlets.
Are we there yet? Are we there yet? If the only Facebook pages you ever visited were for pick-your-own strawberry farms, you’d swear that social media was run entirely by 8-year-olds sitting in the back of a station wagon. Every post is a variation on a single theme: Are you open yet? When will you open? Now? Are you open now?
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