Alcohol-free sangria casts a spotlight on juicy summer peaches

By Allison Robicelli

For The Washington Post

You don’t need to move to the country if you want to eat (or drink) a lot of peaches. Nine years ago, when I left my hometown of New York for the beautiful, bohemian streets of Baltimore, I was unaware that I was starting life anew in a veritable peach paradise. I certainly wasn’t thinking of discovering peaches’ refreshing properties in a nonalcoholic sangria.

Peaches, my favorite fruit by a backwoods country mile, seemed deeply Southern, or so this Yankee had always thought. In the 19th century, it was the fertile soils of the Delmarva Peninsula, east of the Chesapeake Bay, that were pumping out America’s finest peaches, growing far more fruit than locals could dream of eating.

Meanwhile, Baltimore — in addition to dominating streetlights, ice cream and dental education — also happened to be America’s Canning Capital.

And so, after the good folks of Delaware and Eastern Maryland had their fill of every shaken tree, the remaining peaches would be shipped westward, across the bay to the big city, where they were processed in the factories downtown.

From there, the peaches were packed onto railroad cars (another thing Baltimore was known for) and sent off far and wide, making them one of the first fruits to be readily available nationwide year-round — from the rocky coasts of Maine to the bayous of Louisiana; on the whaleships of Nantucket and the covered wagons forging west.

Since those days, our national hunger for peaches grew far too large for the tiny Delmarva Peninsula to handle. Today, the region’s reign as a national peach powerhouse is all but forgotten; the bulk of the modern crop is grown, frozen, canned, pureed, processed and packaged in California — with Georgia and South Carolina coming in a highly distant second and third, respectively) — and Baltimore’s canning industry died decades ago. This has left millions of peaches free for us locals, and I, for one, am glad to be greedy with them.

Even though canning and freezing have made it possible to have the fruit anytime, anywhere, fresh summer peaches are just about as close to perfection as a food can get, and the ones grown in the Mid-Atlantic are miraculous. After nearly a decade in Maryland, I still have no self control when they show up at the farmers market, and have no intention of working on that part of myself. Their season is fleeting, and I’d rather be burdened with too many peaches than even an ounce of regret.

My absolute favorite way to enjoy a fresh peach (seriously) is in a cold shower on a hot day — a peak specimen can — and should — make a terrific mess, and it’s easier to appreciate if you’re not worrying about cleanup. (Coincidentally, properly savoring a peach takes just about the same amount of time as a deep-conditioning treatment.) But there’s only so much time one can spend cooling off in the water, no matter how oppressively hot and humid the Mid-Atlantic has become. With my peach bounty, I’ve made cobblers and cakes, salsas and salads — if you’re motivated, and desperate for more fridge space, you can find a way to work the fruit into just about anything, including a refreshing beverage.

Wondering what the locals of yore did with their overwhelming bounties when they were the authority on such things, I reached out to Kara Mae Harris, a local food historian and author of “Festive Maryland Recipes: Holiday Traditions from the Old Line State” (Old Line Plate, 2023), who told me that while cakes and pies were popular back in the day, nothing was more ubiquitous than brandied peaches, which appear in nearly every old Maryland cookbook she’s ever seen. While to some extent these recipes were meant as a way to keep peaches throughout the offseason, many of the proportions suggest that in some instances, brandy was there for a lot more than preservation.

As I’m sober and haven’t the need (nor space in my apartment) for a winter’s worth of booze-soaked fruit, I can’t delight in my peaches exactly like they did long ago, but I can certainly drown them in nonalcoholic sparkling white wine for an effervescent virgin sangria. Stirring in ginger beer gives it the kind of bite an old-timey cannery worker would appreciate. I also like to add a handful of cherries because they taste good and, like the peaches, I have too many of them in my fridge, but feel free to use any berry or other stone fruit you’d like, or skip them entirely so you can focus on the good stuff. Peaches really are nature’s candy, whether they’re in your hand or can or wine.

Virgin White Sangria With Peaches and Cherries

This virgin white sangria leans on sparkling nonalcoholic wine for an effervescent base. Like most sangria recipes, this one is relaxed, allowing you to adjust amounts to your taste. Slice your peaches as thick or thin as you like; use whichever type of cherries you prefer; add more ginger beer if you like more of a kick. Fresh fruit is best during the summer months, but for the rest of the year, frozen is more than fine. Nonalcoholic sparkling wine can be found at well-stocked supermarkets, specialty stores or online. The prepared sangria needs to be refrigerated for at least 1 hour and up to 3 days before serving.

Makes 6 servings (about 6 cups)

INGREDIENTS

One (750-milliliter) bottle nonalcoholic sparkling white wine, such as Lyre’s Classico

2 large ripe peaches (about 1 pound total), halved, pitted and cut into wedges, plus more for serving

1 cup (3 3/4 ounces) fresh cherries, preferably black, pitted and halved, plus more for serving

One (150-milliliter) can ginger beer, such as Fever Tree

Ice

DIRECTIONS

1: In a 1 1/2-quart (1.5-liter) pitcher, combine the sparkling wine, peaches, cherries and ginger beer. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour before serving.

2: To serve, pour 1 cup of the sangria into ice-filled wine glasses, adding a cherry and/or a peach slice to each glass.

Substitutions:

Nonalcoholic sparkling wine can be replaced with nonalcoholic white wine or rosé, or white grape juice. Don’t have fresh cherries? Use frozen cherries, or fresh or frozen berries. Fresh peaches can be replaced with fresh nectarines or apricots, or frozen peaches. Prefer a boozy sangria? Use brut-style sparkling wine, such as a brut prosecco.

Storage note: Refrigerate for up to 3 days.

Recipe from Allison Robicelli.