peach cobbler (leyla’s)
by deirdre cunniffe
editor: jessica yu and alloe mak

if there is one thing to be said for the mid-east coast of the united states
is that peach season falls perfectly
after the heat of july comes the break between the summer and fall
the first leaves crunch
and though the weather runs hot
the wind runs fast.
and rain breaks the humidity
as august becomes the equalizer
between the seasons

and in the balance of august
comes peaches

and come peaches
i will stand in my kitchen with two quarts
peeling them gentle hands
no tips and tricks like boiling water
only hands and a paring knife
i’ve let them slightly over ripen
and now when i press my thumbs into the fruit
juice drips to my hands as the flesh gives
and lets itself be peeled

i think of my friend
and how she would see the romantic beauty of something like over ripe peaches
and sweet juice that coats your fingers
instead i am thinking about how, in the places where i pick at my
nail beds
sugar and acidity burn against sensitive skin
and smells like hand soap and schnapps

in the bowl, combine peaches, lemon juice (burning even worse) sugar, and a bit of cornstarch, a trick i learned from someone else’s recipe
then, flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, butter, and cream
stir with a fork because you already used the mixing spoon for the peaches
lay what feels like too much butter in the pan
let it melt, then take it back out of the oven

in goes the batter
then come peaches
back in the oven
350 degrees until the house starts to smell like bubbling syrup and late summer

combine oats, brown sugar, butter, and cinnamon in a separate bowl
open oven
top with oats
close the oven
(after inhaling the scent of august, it’s fleeting joy)

turn on the oven light and peer inside
like you used to when you were younger
bend at the knees and crouch to feel the warmth against your face
be careful of your hands

instead of setting a timer
look at the clock
then after about 40 minutes passes
you’ll smell it once again
This time it’s cinnamon and September
stick a toothpick
(or a knife, because when was the last time i kept toothpicks in my house?)
in the cobbler
if it comes out clean,
it’s done

eat it while it’s hot
exhale small breathes through your mouth trying to cool your tongue
be glad you didn’t add too much sugar to the overripe peaches
watch the wind blow
and the humidity break
and say your thank you’s to august
a lovely medium