Chef Helen Turnbull has a soft spot for the Golden Queen peach – so much so, she’s written the fruit an ode. Helen is the chef at Paraparaumu Beach restaurant 50-50.
She’s worked in Tokyo, was awarded Best Emerging Chef at the Capital Awards in 2014, has met Gordon Ramsay's exacting standards, was encouraged to come back home by Sir Michael Hill, and opened Josh Emett’s Rata Restaurant in Queenstown.
She joins Jim to share a recipe for a sublime Golden Queen peach mousse.
Photo: Captured by Friday
An Ode to the Golden Queen Peach
Chef Helen Turnbull reflects on the Golden Queen peach, a fruit whose short season and shared
pleasures have helped define her cooking philosophy.
There are ingredients that announce themselves loudly.
New, trendy and eager to impress.
The golden queen peach arrives without fuss. It appears, does what it has always done and
leaves again.
It is, in many ways, one of the horticultural heroes of the New Zealand fruit scene. In the early
1900s, a peach tree grown from seed in a Tauranga garden stood out to its owner, Edwin Reeve.
The fruit was deeply flavoured, reliable and well suited to local conditions. Propagated by
grafting, the same tree was planted again and again, shared from garden to orchard.
That history matters to me. It speaks to a time when observation, skill and care came together to
create something lasting for our young food culture.
My own connection to golden queens began much later of course.
In our backyard in Moxham Avenue, Hataitai stood a large peach tree. Each spring it bloomed
early, heavy with soft pink flowers that cut against the Wellington sky. Late summer brought the
fruit. A golden glow, furry, warm in the hand and ready all at once.
For a few short weeks the tree was the best show in town. Then it returned to being just a tree.
When I think about how I cook, the rhythm of that single tree taught me a great deal.
Golden queens have flesh that is richly coloured and dense, holding together whether eaten
fresh, bottled, baked or spooned from a jar in winter. They are juicy, but they also have structure.
They keep their shape and retain their character.
What I love most is their flavour when they are truly ripe. Honeyed and full, with a perfume that
reaches you before the first bite. The sweetness is balanced, lifted by enough acidity to keep you
engaged and coming back for more.
My cooking always begins with what tastes good right now. I often start with a vegetable or fruit
and let that lead the dish. Golden queens make that decision easy. The season is short and late,
so you have to pay attention.
Because of that, I keep things simple, especially at home. A slice with yoghurt and a pinch of
salt. A grilled half alongside something creamy or nutty. Their juice folded into a dressing that
catches vegetables or fish while everything is still warm.
When they appear on the 50-50 menu, they act as a marker of time. A sign that summer is
beginning to turn.
One dish I love is where we compress golden queen peach quarters with coconut water, mirin
and lime juice infused with cardamom. The peach is then warmed gently so it stays intact but
yields easily on the spoon. I finish it with a loose gremolata inspired mix of finely sliced lovage
leaves, coal oil and lemon zest, topped with fresh kina and garnished with finger lime pearls. It
can be served as a canapé, an amuse-bouche or a first course. Light, saline, floral and
grounded. A small dish that captures the season.
I like cooking with the seasons because food is a way of bringing people together without effort. I
love it when guests sit down, let go of decision making and trust that they will be looked after.
When something seasonal like a golden queen reaches the table, it opens conversations.
Someone remembers a tree they grew up with. Another realises they have not tasted a peach
like this in years.
That is what good food does. It reminds you where you are and who you are eating with.
Then, like all good things, the season ends.
The last golden queen always brings a moment of awareness. These peaches teach you how to
cook and eat with respect for time. You enjoy them fully, share them freely and let them go. A
reminder for us all that life is indeed peach
