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Roadside stands sell baskets of peaches as well as peach ice cream cobbler and pie.
The rest of the contests take place behind closed doors inside a school classroom, where a group of judges sample homemade jams, jellies, preserves, pies, and cobblers. For a dish to win, peach flavor must shine through the recipe. Winners can take home up to $100 in prize earnings.
Choosing winning peaches comes from the heart. Bluefford tells me, "Sweetheart, it ain't ripe till the juice runs down your chin. That's how to know a good peach." I'm also told that distinguishing a good peach from the bunch depends on your sense of smell. A flavorful peach has a sweet, flowery smell. Sometimes, in fact, a peach can look like the pits, but taste superb.
Some folks fancy certain peach varieties. Judge Lisa Baird prefers the Loring, as does judge C.W. Rust. C.W., whose friends call him "Rusty," calls the Loring "the Cadillac of peaches." Jamey Vogel, who co-owns an orchard by the same family name, also votes the Loring as tops, but his wife, Terri, claims Dixiland as her favorite.
The Soul of Stonewall
You see, peaches are personal. Take joking about the fruit, for example. In this town, making fun of peaches and the art of
growing them is as tacky as making fun of someone's mama. Jamey Vogel says to a buddy, "Hey, when did you travel to Georgia
to buy those peaches you're entering?" Jamey's pal, carefully unwrapping his prized peaches for the contest, doesn't even
chuckle at the joke. Peaches are sacred in these parts. There's only one factor everyone can agree on: Like everything in
the Lone Star State, the bigger the peaches, the better.
The ones grown in this part of the state taste so sweet, they're like candy. In fact, 6-year-old peach picker Baylie Vogel, daughter of Jamey and Terri, tells me her parents have her on a five-peach-a-day limit. "She'd eat them all day," says her mom. With tattered roadside stands selling peaches in every form, from pie and cobbler to jelly and yogurt, if you tire of one peach treat, you can just switch to another. And seeing those perfectly plump spheres hanging on every tree branch makes you want to reach out and pluck a few.
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