A Peach of a Guy

I’ve been saying for years that San Geraldo is a peach of a guy. Kind, funny, loving, intelligent, fascinating, sometimes exasperating, generous, entertaining, interesting, and adorable. And he cooks! The other day, he asked if I’d like a nectarine. I said, yes, and a few minutes later my nectarine arrived, in a bowl along with a spoon and napkin, and cut into cubes so I wouldn’t have to handle that inconvenient pit.


Despite threatening to lock himself in the house for the next four years (until the next quadrennial Dia de San Geraldo), San Geraldo can be daring and adventurous. His latest adventure, other than getting rid of most of our things and moving with me across the ocean to Spain — and much more of a challenge for him than all that — was to go to our little neighborhood fruit market, Frutas Faustino.


Shopping at the supermarket in El Corte Inglés is much easier for San Geraldo. He can ignore the staffed counters, opting for all the packaged meats, cheeses, and produce, and thereby avoid unnecessary attempts at Spanish conversation. But Thursday, he branched out. He went up the street to Frutas Faustino where the owner and staff handle the precious produce for you (you can look but don’t you touch). San Geraldo pointed at things, asked questions, and came home with an abundance of fresh and gorgeous fruits and vegetables, including by far the best avocados I have ever tasted — and, coming from Southern California, I have tasted some really good avocados. Shopping at Faustino gave San Geraldo such a burst of confidence that, back at the supermarket Friday morning at El Corte Inglés, he stepped up to the cheese counter and bought the fresh stuff!


But, oh, the peaches! The peaches from Faustino are sweet and juicy without being soft (yes, I like my fruit firm). Thursday afternoon, San Geraldo dished up my daily serving of cheese, crackers, and apples; and he added a peach. The texture was almost that of a honeydew melon, and the color was a bold orange. These peaches are unlike any peaches I’ve ever tasted. I even ate one later, all by myself, without having it first cut up by San Geraldo. Imagine that!


Not wanting to always live in the shadow of Chef San Geraldo, I have been refining my skills in the kitchen. Our English family rented a vacation apartment while they were here earlier this month. It was not equipped with a tea kettle and they couldn’t live without their daily dose of English tea, so they bought a little electric tea kettle and then dropped it off at our house before they went home (because Melanie was appalled when I told her I nuke the water for my tea). So, I made myself a cup (well, a mug… well, a beaker, as they say in England) of tea this morning using real boiled water from the electric kettle. You know, it tasted a lot better.

OK, so maybe I’m not as peachy as San Geraldo.


Author: Moving with Mitchell

From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla, Spain. And Fuengirola, Málaga..

24 thoughts on “A Peach of a Guy”

  1. I really love your posts, and the fabulous photos. You make me want to pick up my camera again after all these years of relative inactivity! The fruit looks amazing, and being an avocado lover myself, would love to taste those! I miss you guys!

  2. That San Gerald is a real culinary inspiration.
    Where can I get me one of those.
    My Edward hands me a broken off chunk of cheese and package of crackers. If I'm lucky, it will be served on a napkin. And fruit! Tossed from across the room. But at least it's not thrown.

  3. I think you are getting spoiled…much too pampered. I'd give my right tit to have breakfast in bed brought to me at least once a year.
    Say hello to the saint for me.


  4. OMG !!! You cooked water!
    The produce at the fruit market looks wonderful, and most of it comes from just outside town.

  5. You guys are so sweet, and inspiring for us single monkeys 🙂

    When you said beaker it made me thing of keeping up apperances and Lady "Bucket" … thanks for the giggle.

  6. When I was a kid, we had peaches and cream for dessert every night for supper in the summer. It was my job to peel and dice the peaches into dishes. I didn't mind that so bad, but when my mom brought home "lugs" of peaches to can, I had to bring up all the jars from the basement and scrub them. When we canned peaches, it was invariably a miserable hot day and I swore that when I grew up, I'd never can peaches again!

    1. Ms. Sparrow:
      Jerry and I did some canning when we lived in Connecticut. So much work, but such great rewards. We got blue ribbons and purple rosettes at the Guilford Agricultural Fair for our canned peaches every year. Our neighbor was happy when we moved. She finally won that year.

      My mother loves strawberries and sour cream. It's a taste I had to grow into!

  7. I would have eaten a lot more food when I was in Spain if you guys had prepared it. I lost a lot of weight on my last trip. I told friends I'd been to an Iberian fat farm. They all believed me.

    1. Stephen:
      You mean if Jerry had prepared it. If I had prepared it, you would have headed straight for McDonald's.

      And, despite all the eating, we also have lost weight. I wonder what an Iberian Fat Farm would look like. All I can picture is pork.

  8. I continually nag patients to stop all the supplements and nonsense and get back to eating real fruits and vegetables, like these

  9. I see you need some cuddling and coaxing with the amenities of life…don't be afraid to try anything new…just imagine the prospects. Now peaches are always to die for…Jim makes a peach shortcake that as I said 'is to die for'…wants some?

  10. I like my fruit firm, too, but it has nothing to do with anything grown on trees. 🙂

    By coincidence, we're enjoying a great peach year here but for it is from Farmers' Markets — a vicious storm last October tore our peach trees apart.

    We both cook here but in many other ways your San Geraldo reminds me of my Fritz (my Heilige Fritz?). Both are incredibly dear men who are very inventive in their cooking.

    1. Will:
      Glad things are peachy there, even if not on your trees. For someone who doesn't cook, I really do enjoy a farmers' market. (By the way, I love the name "Fritz"!)

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