I’m not really a fan of the barbeque, especially the way we do them here in Britain; a little disposable jobbie from the garage forecourt and a few rather burnt sausages.
I’ve got a Weber kettle that gets used less than half a dozen times each year. Last night I gave in to my children. We had homemade burgers, blackened red peppers and some whole sweetcorns, just simply grilled. All was well.
Then, I wanted something for pudding. The grill was still warm, not the fierce heat from half an hour earlier – just a few glowing lumps. I could hold my hand over it, albeit a little uncomfortably. Grilled bananas are an obvious choice, but overrated I think. All that sweet gooey banana pulp reminding me of Elvis – unfortunately, the later version, with sideburns and jumpsuits.
Fortunately, there were some peaches in the fruit bowl. I cut them in half, removed the stone, and sprinkled just a pinch of sugar over the cut surfaces. After a quick but thorough scrape of the grill’s bars, I put them on cut side facing upwards, then after a minute or two turned them over. The result was some fantastic, warm, but not too hot, grilled peaches with just a tinge of char about them. We ate them with a spoonful of crème fraiche.
If I’d had some friends over, or had thought about it for more than twenty seconds before doing it, I’d have made a little sweetened wine sauce; just a reduction of white wine (flat or fizzy) with a scant spoonful of caster sugar and some vanilla seeds. The trick with such a sauce is not to make it too sweet – it’d be easy to over do it, ruining the subtle beauty and charm of the peach.