Actually, calling this a dessert feels far too simple. To me, it’s more like catching the last warm days of a Devon summer in a bowl, the way we used to cram foraged fruit into anything oven-safe in mom’s tiny kitchen. There’s no poetry here, just peaches and plums doing what they do best—reminding me of wild strawberries behind gran’s cottage and mom saying, “Don’t waste good things, love—the earth worked for them too.”
Here’s the honest truth: I make this Peach and Plum Crisp when I need a win. Last week, after a long day volunteering at the urban farm (I may have lost a battle with a rogue zucchini plant), I chopped up my haul, tossed in old oats from the back of the pantry, and prayed it would work. It always does. The magic truly is in how utterly forgiving this recipe is. Sour plums? Add more brown sugar. Really sweet peaches? Cut back a bit. The oats and pecans end up like golden gravel over rivers of bubbling fruit. Proper comfort—the type you spoon straight from the dish and don’t apologize if you eat standing by the open fridge.
If you landed here hoping for a tricky, posh pudding, this is not that. This is fruit, kindness, and the memory of a garden in late afternoon sun. And okay—sometimes I add ice cream, sometimes not. Mostly it’s the simplest things that stick.
To make the Peach and Plum Crisp, you will need the following ingredients:
Preheat the oven to 350 °F. Meanwhile, brush a medium oven-safe cast-iron skillet (or an 8x8-inch baking dish) with a little coconut oil or butter.
In a food processor, pulse together ⅓ cup whole rolled oats, ⅓ cup chopped pecans ¼ cup flour, ⅓ cup brown sugar, ½ teaspoon cinnamon, and a pinch of salt until well combined.
Add 3 tablespoons hardened coconut oil or vegan butter and pulse a few times until the crumbly mixture clumps together. If the mixture is too dry, add a little water, a teaspoon at a time. If it's too wet, add a little more flour.
Place the sliced peaches and plums into the prepared skillet.
Sprinkle the oat topping evenly over the fruit.
Bake until the topping is golden brown and the fruit is soft, about 15-18 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool slightly.
Serve warm with a scoop of ice cream.
First, dig out your heavy skillet, made of cast iron, the kind you find in a grandmother’s kitchen, or a baking dish that is 8 inches by 8 inches. Cast iron’s my go-to. You probably know why—it just makes the bits at the edges sing.
A food processor does the work quickly, but honestly, mixing the topping by hand is my favourite part. It takes me right back to being eight and making that infamous salty apple crumble (yes, the fabled salt-for-sugar disaster). If you don’t have a gadget, all you really need is a mixing bowl, your hands, a sharp knife for thinly slicing fruit, a trusty cutting board, and a brush for slicking coconut oil or vegan butter. Old kit, new joy.
Find fruit that smells like sunshine. Seriously. Don’t stress about supermarket ripeness rules. You’ll know the right ones—they’ll be the ones that remind you of what Mr. Tilley taught me in our school garden: you feel ripeness more than you see it. If you press and they give slightly and perfume the whole bag, you’re good. If not, let them sit out on the windowsill. They’re worth the wait.
Taste your fruit before you go further. Some seasons, the plums are almost sour sweets. Other times, the peaches are so syrupy you worry they’re overdone. Adjust your brown sugar in the topping accordingly. If you want the fruit singing through, cut back a spoonful. Too zingy? Chuck in an extra sprinkle.
For the topping, a little clumpiness is what you want. I start in the food processor, but honestly, most days, I end up pinching lumps between fingers, just like gran showed me. If it gets crumbly but too dry, a teaspoon of water at a time brings it together. Too wet? Sprinkle a bit more flour. You want it to bake up crisp—nobody wants soggy oats.
Leave your crisp to cool for a few minutes after taking it out of the oven. Not patience for patience’s sake, but to let the juices relax and the topping snap a bit more. Each spoonful should be part soft jammy fruit, part craggy crust.
If you’re in the mood (I often am), a splash of vanilla extract or pinch of nutmeg in with the fruit makes the whole kitchen smell like old storybooks. Trust me, the little things matter.
Want to flex those nut muscles? Swap out the pecans for slivered almonds. It’s a game changer. I sometimes stir a dash of almond extract into the crumble. Suddenly, it’s all marzipan dreams layered over sun-warmed stone fruit. Proper good with plums, especially.
Once, I found myself with the end of a bag of shredded coconut and a jar of coconut oil. Reader, it went into the topping. Turns out, the coconut turns chewy and sweet as it bakes. Swapping vegan butter for coconut oil brings actual holiday vibes. Pairs beautifully with a scoop of coconut ice cream if you’re in the mood for full-on escapism.
Keep it classic: serve warm, with vanilla ice cream that puddles into the fruit. Or, my current favourite, heap on a big spoonful of whipped coconut cream and scatter a few mint leaves (I snip mine from the windowsill, but supermarket is fine). For a breakfast thrill, a little Greek yogurt on the side gives just the right tang—nobody’s judging. Wink.
A handful of toasted nuts is never wrong. If you have a bottle of Moscato rolling around or some sparkling Prosecco, now is their moment. Peach and Plum Crisp works for a crowd or for one tired cook—trust me, I’ve tested both.
Can I use different fruit? Absolutely. Apricots, nectarines, even a handful of berries from the hedges. Just check if they’re juicy—watery fruit may need a minute or two more baking, or you might sprinkle a bit of extra flour over the fruit before the topping, just to soak up the goodness.
What if I don’t own a cast-iron skillet? No stress! A glass or ceramic baking dish that is about 8 by 8 inches will do the trick. Spreading fruit in an even layer is the point—not the type of dish.
How can I make this for someone who avoids gluten? Just swap the flour for almond or oat. Both keep the topping crisp and nobody will miss a thing. Actually, I almost prefer it.
Can I prep this in advance? Oh yes. Assemble your crisp and cover tightly, then stick it in the fridge for up to a day. When you are ready to bake, just pop it in the oven you have already heated. Add an extra minute or two if it’s straight from cold.
What’s the best way to store leftovers? I doubt you’ll have any (no, really), but just in case: keep in an airtight container in the fridge for up to three days. To relive the magic, warm gently in a low oven until bubbly and fragrant again. Soggy leftovers are nobody’s friend—so don’t risk the microwave if you can help it.
And there you have it. Actually, before you eat—compost the pits! The earth worked hard for them. Cook kindly, eat consciously, leave no trace but joy. And for goodness sake, don’t let Olive the cat anywhere near the finished dish. She’ll try anyway!
This Peach and Plum Crisp is a wonderful summer dessert that’s easy to make. Be sure to choose perfectly ripe peaches for baking, as overripe ones can turn into a mushy mess during the baking. Enjoy the simplicity and flavor!
Delicious! It's always good to have a vegan dessert option in your pocket.
