Peach Bourbon Pie

Andre's Netflix show is filming its second season and he's doing a sketch that is, unmistakably, about Set the Table. A comedy sketch about a cooking program for teenage girls, led by a fierce Southern woman who uses a mysterious spice can. He called to tell me. I said, "Did you ask permission?" He said, "I'm asking now." I said, "Is the character flattering?" He said, "The character is you, Tamika. How could she not be?" I said, "Does she wear a green blouse?" He said, "She wears an apron that says 'Kitchen Is My Church.'" I laughed until I couldn't breathe. He's putting my apron on Netflix. Mama would die. Mama already died. But she would die AGAIN, of pride, if she could see her son putting her daughter's apron on Netflix.

Curtis watched the first season again. He called me afterward and said, "That boy is talented." I said, "He's always been talented." He said, "He gets it from your mama." He said, "She was the funniest person I ever met." He has never said this before. In fifty years of knowing Brenda Jackson, Curtis has never called her funny. He's called her stubborn, opinionated, bossy, right, and "your mama." But never funny. And yet: funny. Brenda Jackson was funny. The woman who said "I don't care what the doctor says, it's Christmas" about the butter. The woman who said "she's not dying, she's experienced" about Miss Ernestine. Funny. Curtis is seventy-five years old and still discovering things about his dead wife. The discovering doesn't end. The marriage continues. Even from the grave, Brenda Jackson surprises him.

After Andre called to tell me my apron was going on Netflix, I hung up the phone and went straight to the kitchen — because that is what women like me do when something so ridiculous and so beautiful happens at the same time. Mama always said the kitchen was the only room that could hold every feeling at once, and she was right, because it held the laughing and the missing her and the wanting to call Curtis and tell him and knowing he’d say “that boy” like it was one word. I made this peach bourbon pie. The peaches are Southern and a little dramatic, the bourbon is the part nobody admits to but everybody appreciates, and the whole thing comes out of the oven smelling like something Brenda Jackson would have made on Christmas without asking the doctor first.

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 55 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 20 minutes | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 double-crust pie dough (homemade or store-bought), chilled
5 cups fresh peaches, peeled and sliced (about 5–6 medium peaches)
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup packed light brown sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons bourbon
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/8 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 egg, beaten (for egg wash)
1 tablespoon coarse sugar (for topping)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 425°F. Roll out one disc of pie dough and fit it into a 9-inch pie plate. Trim the edges to about 1/2 inch overhang and refrigerate while you make the filling.
Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine the sliced peaches, granulated sugar, brown sugar, cornstarch, bourbon, lemon juice, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Toss gently until the peaches are evenly coated. Let the mixture sit for 10 minutes so the juices begin to release.
Fill the pie. Pour the peach filling into the chilled pie shell, mounding it slightly in the center. Dot the top of the filling with the small pieces of butter.
Top the pie. Roll out the second disc of dough and lay it over the filling. Trim, fold, and crimp the edges to seal. Cut several slits in the top crust to allow steam to escape. Brush the entire surface with the beaten egg and sprinkle generously with coarse sugar.
Bake. Place the pie on a rimmed baking sheet (to catch any drips). Bake at 425°F for 20 minutes, then reduce the oven temperature to 375°F and bake for an additional 30–35 minutes, until the crust is deep golden brown and the filling is bubbling through the vents.
Cool before slicing. Transfer the pie to a wire rack and let it cool for at least 2 hours before slicing. This allows the filling to set so it doesn’t run when you cut it — patience is part of the recipe.

Nutrition (per serving)

Peach Bourbon Pie — When the Kitchen Is Your Church and Netflix Calls