With peaches at their peak, two delicious desserts that'll impress

Several members of my book club possess some serious baking chops.

Hosting duties are rotated among the eight of us, and when we gather at Chris' south Minneapolis home, or Allison's abode in Roseville, we're inevitably in for an Ina Garten-level treat.

Unfortunately, when book club lands at my house, I'm wracked with anxiety. After all, when I compare my baking skills with those of my friends, it's a genuine I'm-not-worthy moment.

Until last week, when we congregated at my house and I served — and truly, this is in all modesty — a spectacular dessert.

A stroll through the grocery produce section provided all the necessary culinary inspiration. It being early August, the place was practically wall-to-wall stone fruits, a category that surely qualifies for Nature's Most Agreeable Baking Ingredient.

Although the plums and nectarines were tempting, it was the peaches that were calling my name: so fragrant, so heavy with sweet juices.

Holding one in my hand — and resisting the temptation to bite into it — my brain flashed to a recipe, one that I'd once clipped from, of all things, a Williams-Sonoma catalog.

It was a huge hit (the month's reading selection, alas, was not). Sure, it doesn't hurt that the words "peach cobbler" are as universally adored as "tax refund" and "room service."

It also helps that this particular cobbler looks as good as it tastes. Its rough-hewed crust, burnished to a golden brown by the oven's heat, and bubbling over with the fruit's plentiful juices, has an undeniable simple-pleasures beauty.

Thanks, Williams-Sonoma. To express my gratitude, I'll get in and shop — maybe at your new Ridgedale store — and soon.

For those on the lookout for peachy goodness that's even less complicated — but still impressive looking (and tasting), here's another idea: a fruit-on-the-top tart, one that calls upon a few basic ingredients, the kind that are always on hand.

My go-to recipe has been stuffed into a folder in my kitchen for so long — the mid-1980s, maybe? — that I don't remember its origins.

"No" on both counts, although she admitted that she's long referred to it as "the Nelson tart." Awww.

Anyway, it's easy. As in, make-it-at-the-cabin easy. Well, if your cabin kitchen is outfitted with tart pans. Here's how:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and liberally butter the bottom and sides of an 8- by 11-inch rectangular tart pan (or 9-inch round pan) with a removable bottom.

In a mixer, beat together ⅔ cup (that's 10 ⅔ tablespoons, or 1 stick plus 2 ⅔ tablespoons) room-temperature butter with ⅔ cup granulated sugar, mixing until the butter is light and fluffy, about 2 minutes.

Add three eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition (fans of almonds — a flavor that pairs well with peaches — should consider adding ½ teaspoon almond extract with the last egg). Reduce speed to low, add 1 ¾ cup flour and mix until just combined.

Bake until the dough puffs up and edges are golden, about 20 to 25 minutes. Remove from oven and preheat the broiler. Scatter ¼ cup brown sugar over the peaches. Place the pan under the broiler until sugar caramelizes, then remove the pan from the oven and set it on a wire rack to cool.

Remove the tart from pan and serve the tart warm or at room temperature. (The brown sugar/broiler step is easily skipped, and the tart remains tasty and pretty. Terese prefers to fashion a glaze from a few tablespoons of apricot jam, heated in the microwave oven and brushed over the peaches just after the tart comes out of the oven; no broiler necessary.)

As for all those fuzzy peach peelings, they're too precious to squander on the compost heap.

Instead, chop them into bite-size pieces, toss them in a bit of freshly squeezed lemon juice (to prevent discoloration), spread in a single layer in a pan, freeze, and then transfer the pieces into a freezer-safe container. They're great smoothie add-ins.