Peaches and cream/ You make a garbage man scream

by Kriston Capps

Today my friend Raymond was IMing me to brag that his wife is totally awesome and makes incredible food. At least, that was my takeaway from my conversation with that jerk—that, and Cloves & Cream, the food blog by said chef, Laura White Uhlir. Her notes on peach and chicken kebabs have me salivating. I’ve never loved kabobs, at least not the usual configuration (chicken, onion, bell pepper); I just don’t think bell pepp is improved by grilling the way that a poblano is. And I’m often concerned—often confident, really—that chicken breast coming off the grill is going to be rubbery or bone-dry for fear of undercooking. But in the hands of a competent chef and paired with the complementary flavor and texture of grilled peaches, chicken kebabs sound tight.

Here’s another thing to do with peaches: grill them, and go ahead and grill some plums with them, and then eat them with some crema espesa.

C&C also posted this Joseph Joseph bowl set, which I’ll re-post here to throw some color on the page.

bowl_rainbowThis looks great, a little like something by Jen Stark. But you only get to see it once in its assembled Voltron form: when you buy it. Ordered, concentric measuring spoons are still measuring spoons, so they belong wherever it is you think to look for them last.


4 responses to “Peaches and cream/ You make a garbage man scream

  1. “the food blog by said chef”

    Home cooks are not chefs. This (and those peach kebabs’ are an insult to talented chefs everywhere. Her recipe is one of those so riddled with culinary errors; for example, if she had known to dry the chicken after marinating, she would have had a char instead of an all out burn.

  2. void_pelican

    the tops, you are my favorite douchebag internet commenter. EVER.

  3. Nice Beck reference. I also really enjoy this grilled peach/shrimp/bok choy recipe from epicurious:,
    I’ve made it with chicken too.

  4. Chicken on a kebab seems like an unforced error. I grew up eating kebabs assembled by my dad using pork tenderloin — the store-bought, plastic-wrapped, saline-injected type. Despicable for some reasons, yes, but damn does that produce a tender grilled morsel.

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