Hi, I’m Clara! The Woman Behind the Spoon
I believe good food is not only about how it tastes but who you taste it with.
Why this kitchen exists
Peached Spoon exists because of one summer, one glut of stone fruit, and a stubborn refusal to let good things go to waste.
It was August. The peaches at the farmers market were the kind that bruise if you look at them wrong — fragrant, heavy, embarrassingly ripe. I bought too many, the way I always do in late summer, and spent a weekend turning them into preserves, tarts, and small jars of something I didn’t have a name for yet. When I brought a few jars to a dinner that Friday, three people asked where they could buy them before the evening was over.
That was four years ago. Peached Spoon has been my kitchen project, creative obsession, and quiet labour of love ever since.
The person doing the cooking
My name is Clara Beaumont. I’m a self-taught cook based in [location], and I’ve been feeding people — friends, family, strangers who became regulars — for as long as I can remember.
I didn’t go to culinary school. My education happened in my grandmother’s kitchen in rural Shropshire, where nothing came from a packet and nothing was ever rushed. She kept a recipe journal she’d been writing in since 1967 — handwritten entries in fading ink, with little margin notes like ‘add more lemon next time’ and ‘everyone asked for this twice.’ I inherited that journal when she passed. I’ve been adding to it ever since.
That journal is the closest thing I have to a culinary qualification, and I’d put it up against any certificate.
What I actually know how to do
Over the past decade I’ve developed a particular focus on preserving, small-batch baking, and seasonal cooking — the kind of food that follows the calendar rather than fighting it. I know stone fruits in a way that borders on obsessive. I understand how sugar behaves at different temperatures, why butter temperature changes everything in pastry, and how a pinch of something unexpected — black pepper in a peach butter, cardamom in a shortbread — can turn something familiar into something people can’t stop thinking about.
Everything on Peached Spoon — every recipe, every product, every recommendation — comes from that accumulated knowledge and from the very simple discipline of making something over and over until it’s right.
What you’ll find here
Peached Spoon is a place for people who believe that cooking well doesn’t require a professional kitchen, an expensive pantry, or a culinary degree. It requires curiosity, a little patience, and the willingness to pay attention to what’s in season.
Here you’ll find small-batch preserves and baked goods made in limited quantities when the right ingredients are available. Recipes written the way I’d explain them to a friend — with the details that actually matter and without the unnecessary scaffolding. Honest notes on technique, ingredient sourcing, and the kind of kitchen wisdom that only comes from doing something wrong enough times to finally understand what right feels like.
There are no sponsored ingredients here, no partnerships that influence what I make or recommend, and no recipes I haven’t tested on my own table first — usually multiple times, usually on people I trust to tell me the truth.
A few things worth knowing
The products sell out because they’re made in genuine small batches — not as a marketing device, but because that’s the only way to make them properly. When something is gone, it’s gone until the season comes back around or the next batch is ready.
The recipes are written for home cooks with real kitchens and real schedules. If something can be done ahead, I’ll tell you. If something genuinely can’t be rushed, I’ll tell you that too.
And if you ever make something from this site and it turns out beautifully — or doesn’t — I genuinely want to hear about it. This whole thing started as a conversation over a dinner table. It’s still that, just with more people at it.
— Clara Beaumont