Summer is clearly over, but I couldn't resist one last try at peaches. My good friend Johann was headed to Wegmans (where I'd bought the only really good peaches I consumed this year), so I asked him to pick me up a half-dozen. As I ought to have anticipated, the peaches were fine, but not great. So they had to be baked.
I cut each peach in half, placed them face down in a baking dish, and added a splash of rosewater, about half a cup of leftover Portuguese white wine, and a teaspoon of vanilla extract. After 15 minutes at 400 degrees they became appropriately mushy. I dumped the peaches into a bowl, and then poured the leftover juices into a very hot skillet. I boiled and stirred until I got bored of waiting for the "sauce" to thicken any further--reductions have never been my strong point. The Human Vacuum (pictured above) and I ate the peaches and their juices poured over yogurt.
My dessert wound up tasting like a classier version of canned cling peaches in heavy syrup. Which is a good thing, I think. Depending on who your dinner companions are, though, you may not want to point this out to them.