By Liza Gershman
The first peach of summer is almost always eaten over the sink—bent slightly forward, elbows braced, juice running down to the wrists. There’s no elegant way to meet that kind of sticky sweetness. It demands surrender.
At the Healdsburg Certified Farmers’ Market, word spreads quickly when Dry Creek Peach returns. It isn’t advertised. There’s no banner, no online post. Just quiet murmurs between neighbors as they slip a soft paper bag into their basket and continue on—as if they haven’t just collected the very beginning of summer.
When I was younger, I used to walk to the dusty farmstand from the Prestons’ house on Dry Creek Road. We’d eat a peach on the way back, the warm, sticky juice running down our cheeks and arms marking summer’s beginning in quiet streaks of gold.
Dry Creek Peach (2179 Yoakim Bridge Rd.) is one of the last true peach orchards in a county better known for vineyards—a sun-struck parcel just minutes from town, where the fruit is tended by hand, picked only at peak ripeness and offered exactly as it should be: warm from the morning sun, unwashed, unchilled and never sent farther than a neighbor’s kitchen. The trees grow in the loamy valley soil, where long days and cool nights coax sweetness toward the surface until it nearly bursts through the skin.
It’s rare now—a farm this small, this intentional and this well-loved. The current owners, who took over just over a decade ago, didn’t seek to reimagine the land. They leaned into what worked: organic methods, old-world irrigation, and heirloom varietals that ripen slowly and don’t travel well. These peaches are meant to be eaten near the tree they fell from, and tasting one is a seasonal pleasure.
The difference is unmistakable. These farm-fresh stone fruits arrive in gentle waves—a procession of names that sound like songs: Sun Crest, June Lady, Gold Dust. Each with its own groupies.
And then they’re gone. The season is short.
Arrive too late—say after 10am—and they’re usually already sold. The regulars know: Dry Creek Peach is a first-thing stop. Just after opening, they can be found with baskets in hand, catching up with old friends as the morning takes shape. The musician tunes up. Coffee steams in paper cups. Children dart between stalls. By mid-morning, the boxes are empty.
The fruit is eaten well just as it is, of course—but also grilled with burrata, tucked into rustic galettes, spooned over ice cream or preserved in jars for colder months.
This peach—lush, fleeting, sticky with sun—personifies summer in Healdsburg.
“Best ones are always in late July,” someone says, holding one up to the light. “Unless you’re a June Lady person.” A nod. A smile. A bite. And for a moment, the world goes quiet as mouths drip with a familiar gooey sweetness that welcomes in summer.
‘Farm + Market: Healdsburg’ is still collecting recipes from the local community, and a few more are still welcome. Whether it’s something made every summer or a dish that appears when company arrives, the book is meant to reflect how people cook and live here—simply, seasonally and with care. Submit recipes by July 15 at healdsburgbook.com.
What’s in Season Now
Peaches, nectarines, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, summer squash, heirloom cucumbers, new potatoes, sweet onions, early tomatoes, green beans, radishes, cut flowers and fresh herbs.
