So, About This Peach Crisp—Why I Keep Coming Back

I have to admit, Bourbon Peach Crisp is my secret weapon when I’ve promised dessert but forgot (again) that the peaches on the counter were ripe three days ago. It’s the kind of recipe that feels like a summer picnic—even if you’re just in sweatpants in the middle of November. The first time I threw bourbon into the mix was, honestly, because I’d run out of vanilla and figured, “Eh, this can only make things more interesting, right?” Well, it did. And now people sort of demand it. Sometimes I even make a double batch because, let’s be real, warm peachy bourbon filling with that crisp, toasty topping…you know leftovers won’t survive.

Why I Keep Making It (and Probably Will Forever)

This isn’t one of those fancy, “a chef once taught me” kind of desserts—I make this when I want something comforting, but not fussy. My kids go a little wild for it because of the crunchy topping (my youngest would eat just crisp if I let her). And sometimes, especially if it’s raining or I’ve spilt flour everywhere, I’ll skip peeling the peaches because who’s got the patience? Oh! Also, whenever our neighbor brings over those slightly bruised farmers market peaches, this recipe brings them right back to life. The bourbon? Well, my cousin once called it “grown-up magic.” She’s not wrong.

What You’ll Need (Or Maybe Something Close Enough)

6-7 ripe peaches, sliced (about 6 cups—sometimes I go for 5 if that’s all I’ve got. Frozen sliced peaches work too, just thaw ’em first)
2 tablespoons bourbon (I’ve used whiskey when bourbon mysteriously vanishes—works alright!)
2 teaspoons lemon juice (from a bottle is fine, but fresh is lovely if you have it)
1/2 cup granulated sugar (some folks swap in brown sugar, kinda nice but makes it a bit denser)
2 teaspoons cornstarch (or flour. I once forgot this—still tasty, just a bit soupier)
1 cup rolled oats (quick oats? Eh, in a pinch…)
3/4 cup all-purpose flour (my grandmother insisted on White Lily, but any flour is just fine)
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar (dark will do—we’re not getting picky)
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, cold and cut into cubes (if you only have salted, just ease up on that extra salt)
Optional: a handful of chopped pecans or walnuts (my uncle swears by pecans, I lean walnut, you do you)

Let’s Throw It Together (Imprecise or Not)

Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). I forget this step all. the. time. Best to do it first.
Slice up your peaches and toss them in a big-ish bowl with the bourbon, lemon juice, granulated sugar, and cornstarch. Give it a mix until everything’s glossy (this is where I usually sneak a taste—research, right?).
Pour the peach mix into a baking dish—an 8×8-inch or whatever’s close works. No need to overthink it.
Now the topping: In another bowl, combine oats, flour, brown sugar, cinnamon, salt, and the cold butter cubes. Use your fingers or a pastry cutter to rub together until you get a shaggy, crumbly mess. (If butter starts melting because your kitchen is a sauna, pop the bowl in the freezer for a minute. Or just embrace it—rustic!)
Stir in nuts if you’re going for that. Sprinkle all the crumbly topping over the peaches. Seriously, get every corner covered.
Bake for about 40–45 minutes—not less, trust me, I once tried and got soggy topping. You want gold and bubbly edges. If the top starts to look too brown, just lay a sheet of foil on for the last 10 min.
Let it cool for at least 10–15 min; too hot and all the juices will run off (voice of experience here).

Things I Wish I Knew Earlier (Notes Section)

If your peaches are super sweet, cut back a smidge on the sugar—otherwise it strays into toothache territory.
Bourbon is technically optional, but I never skip it now. That little hit at the back makes a difference. (Rum is…not the same. I tried.)
If you forget the cornstarch, it’ll be more juicy, but just eat it in a bowl—nobody will complain.

How I’ve Messed with This Recipe (And Sometimes Won)

Subbed in canned peaches in winter (drain them well or else it’s soup—ask me how I know).
Added a pinch of ginger to the topping once; actually kind of brilliant.
Tried coconut oil instead of butter—eh, weird texture; won’t repeat.
Swapped out half the oats for shredded coconut for my cousin—she loved it, I was on the fence.

Don’t Sweat the Equipment

I love my old glass baking dish, but really anything oven-safe around 8×8 or even a deep pie pan will do. If you don’t have a pastry cutter, use your hands or even two forks. Once, I just used a wide mug to press the butter in—whatever works!

Storing Leftovers (Ha, If You Have Any)

Store covered in the fridge for up to 3 days. Honestly, in my house, it never lasts more than a day so I rarely get that far. Cold peach crisp is…actually kind of delicious for breakfast, not that I’m saying you *should.*

How We Serve It (Our Little Rituals)

Always warm, always with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. Sometimes, if we’re feeling wild, a drizzle of extra bourbon over the top. My daughter likes it with whipped cream—her little rebellion. Try a few toasted pecans on top if you’re into that crunch-on-crunch thing.

Lessons Learned the Long, Messy Way (Pro Tips)

Don’t rush the cooling—even if you want to dive in. I once served too soon and ended up with peachy puddles. Still tasty, just less crisp!
Cube that butter straight from the fridge. Once, I tried softened butter and my topping kind of melted instead of crisping. Oops.
Check your oven for hot spots; mine likes to burn the right side, so I spin the dish halfway through. Or just watch and hope, but spinning is safer!

Some Questions I Actually Get, Believe It or Not

Can I make this gluten-free?: Yep! Just swap in your favorite gluten-free flour blend. Actually, last time I tried almond flour—worked well, though topping gets more crumbly.
Is there a non-alcoholic substitute for the bourbon?: No worries! Just use a splash of vanilla extract or even some apple juice. It’s less punchy, but still cozy.
Should I peel the peaches?: Up to you. Peels soften in the bake; actually, I rarely bother. But if the fuzz gets stuck in your teeth, maybe peel a few.
Can I double the recipe?: Sure. Use a 9×13 pan and add a few minutes to the bake time. Big family gatherings, here you come.
Why is my crisp soggy?: Could be too much juice or not enough bake. On second thought, thicker topping fixes a lot. When in doubt, eat it with a spoon and pretend it’s intentional!

By the way, if you ever get bored making crisp, try listening to old Motown records while you bake—instant mood lift. Trust me.

Bourbon Peach Crisp