What does one do when presented with an ingredient that is perfect though? Years prior, I think that this challenge has been rare in most culinary endeavors in the U.S. Much of the produce we get is factory-farmed, bred for looks and not flavor, and frequently travels great distances on a truck before it makes it to our plates or glasses. Because much of this Monsanto pabulum is flavorless, we have to get creative: using aggressive amounts of seasoning, employing techniques that can concentrate flavors, or generally over-compensating in some regard to render tasty ingredients.
So, when we get an ingredient that is the truest essence of itself, what do we do with it, especially when we want to feature it at the center of a dish? An American chef with technical mastery is immediately tempted to try to elevate that flavor even farther. And similarly, a mixologist might think: What amaros complements ripe peach? Would a vinegar-based shrub set off those flavors? Would a robust smokey distillate like scotch or mezcal stand up to a perfect iteration of a perfectly ripe, summer peach?
This is a conundrum: Do I let the ingredient speak, or attempt to dominate it with technique and my culinary signature? In attempts to do the latter, I am more and more convinced of the wisdom of employing the former. So, when I'm given a perfect peach, my thought process is simple and straightforward. Peaches are "southern." They are made into cobbler, pies, and other confections that are caramelly and sweet. Bourbon, the distillate of the U.S. south, has been described similarly. There is just the matter of the proportions of these two kindred ingredients, adding a little sugar, and binding the alcohol and sweetness together with a bit of lemon. And, because you've got some pulpy bits in the mix, a little egg white will help keep it all nicely emulsified in a velvet pillow of peach, bourbon, lemon and sugar. ~
