There is a window in midsummer — barely three weeks long — when the peaches at the farmers market are so ripe they bruise just from looking at them, and the juice runs down your wrist before the fruit even reaches your mouth. That window is exactly when you make this cobbler. Not before. Not with grocery store peaches in February. Wait for the real ones, and when they arrive, make this immediately.
What you'll need
Six to eight large ripe peaches — about three pounds. You don't need to peel them; the skins soften and become part of the texture. You'll also need half a cup of sugar, a tablespoon of cornstarch, a squeeze of lemon, a pinch of cinnamon, and a good pinch of salt for the filling. For the cobbler topping: one and a half cups of all-purpose flour, half a cup of sugar, two teaspoons of baking powder, half a teaspoon of salt, three-quarters of a cup of whole milk, and six tablespoons of melted butter — plus two more tablespoons of cold butter cut into the pan itself before the batter goes in. That last part is the secret.
The method
Preheat your oven to 375°F. Slice your peaches into generous wedges and toss them with the sugar, cornstarch, lemon, cinnamon, and salt. Let them sit and macerate for fifteen minutes while you make the batter — they'll release the most beautiful golden syrup.
Put your cast iron skillet in the oven with the two tablespoons of cold butter for five minutes, until the butter is foaming and just beginning to brown. Whisk together your batter — flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, milk, and melted butter — until just combined. Pour the batter into the hot buttery skillet without stirring. Spoon the macerated peaches and all their syrup directly over the top. Don't stir. The batter will rise up around and through the peaches as it bakes.
Bake for forty-five to fifty minutes, until the top is deeply golden and the edges are bubbling and caramelised. Let it rest for ten minutes before serving — it will still be warm, and that matters. Serve with a generous scoop of good vanilla ice cream and watch it melt into the cobbler's golden crust. This is what July is for.
Leftovers, if there are any, are extraordinary warm from the oven the next morning with a cup of strong coffee. I'm not above this. I encourage it, actually.