I like peaches.

I recently learned the difference between freestone (flesh separates from the pit) and clingstone (flesh clings to the pit) peaches.  There’s really no way to tell the difference by looking at a peach, but I’m not a fan of the clingstone ones.  I cut my peaches in half, throw the pit out and eat the halves.  It’s a yummy snack.  With the cling peaches, when I do the little twisty move to get the peach apart, it holds on, messes up the break and makes a yucky mushy mess.  Cling peaches ruin the snack experience.

I Googled because I wanted to know if there was a way of avoiding the clingy ones, if I could tell in the store before I brought them home.  The answer is no.  They look the same on the outside, but apparently the majority of the peaches sold in stores are freestone.  The cling ones are usually sold to companies that have machines to handle them, or bakers that dice them up anyway.  I’m not sure why, but every now and then, every season, I get a batch of clingy.

I’m not a fan of anything clingy.  Plastic wrap annoys the crap out of me.  I don’t like shirts that bunch or people that cling. I like clean breaks, a crisp divide.  I think most people do.  Well, maybe not.  Some people like a mess, juice running down their hands, scrambling for a paper towel.  There’s more drama in the cling, so I suppose that appeals.

I understand the urge to cling, it’s tied to the whole fear of change business, but any time I have ever held on too long I made a mess.  I don’t like mess.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  Clean Sheets.

courage food life people culture life peaches thoughts whatever