Bourbon Peach Pie

We know this space has been neglected.  Just the other day Kate sent an email to us asking for the recipes that are currently simmering on our stovetops, and as she declared herself in a cooking rut I realized that I am in the same uninspired place.

To be fair, we've had a busy summer of changes.  In July, I ended my two-year AmeriCorps program and moved out of the sweet old house that I was lucky enough to live in for two years.  Somewhere in between there I waved good-bye to Kate and Pete as they moved across the country for an exciting new chapter.  Sarah, meanwhile, has been working her tail off in her own new professional venture.  And now I sit, still in the Phoenix heat, rarely feeling the motivation to do much more than roast some simple veggies or follow someone else's recipe to a T.

Luckily, motivation can always be found in pie, and all the more so when that pie involves booze.  I've been on the hunt for a solid bourbon peach pie recipe all summer, dreaming of something that married two of my favorite vices perfectly.  In early summer, my friend and (now) new roommate Mandy and I had a night of too-much-pie-baking to celebrate our program graduation that ended with us laying on her floor at midnight while pies (multiple) still sat in the oven, including these bourbon peach hand pies by smitten kitchen.  Her husband declared them the best "pop tart" he'd ever eaten, and they were delicious to be sure, but lacking the kick of bourbon I was hoping for.  It seemed every recipe I could find gushed about adding a "splash of bourbon", but who wants just a splash? I, personally, would like some drunken peaches. A few weeks later, I decided that another google search was in order, and baked a peach pie with bourbon-laced caramel as my last pie in the kitchen I dearly loved.  The caramel didn't set quite right, but it was also lovely and perfect for feeding the kind friends and family that helped my roommates and I move.  Still, the truly boozy pie I was seeking alluded me until Mandy found what we had hoped for: a recipe that validated our desire to simply soak the peaches in bourbon until the cows came home. We loosely followed that, and here's the result, a pie that will make you ecstatically happy to be an adult even while dealing with responsibilities like moving in 100+ heat.  I should know, it's already been made three times since then, somehow always coming before the many other berry-filled summer desserts I have vague ambitions to bake but haven't gotten around to.

Hopefully fall will provide these sisters with a little more stability, and we'll have some fresh veggie-filled ideas for you.  But until then, pie:

1 double pie crust dough, chilled
7 juicy peaches, pitted, peeled and sliced

(at least) 1/4 cup of bourbon
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon salted butter (or unsalted butter and 1/4 teaspoon of salt)

In a large bowl, douse sliced peaches in bourbon (don't be shy).  Cover and let chill for awhile, at least a couple hours but overnight recommended (the longer they chill, the more bourbon they'll soak up).

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Whisk sugar, flour, cinnamon and lemon juice in a bowl, then mix with peaches.  Roll out pie crust and place in 9 inch pie pan.  Fill bottom crust with peaches, cover with scattered pieces of butter, cover with top crust (or lattice, if preferred).  Be sure to ventilate crust,  then brush with egg wash and dust with raw sugar.

Bake for 35 minutes, then reduce temperature to 350 for an additional 25-30, until crust is golden.  Cover crust edges with aluminum foil or pie shield if browning too quickly.

Cheers!