– Updated 8/28 reflect details on the peach vendors and size of the festival
Two Saturdays ago, six blocks of Lafayette’s downtown were packed to the brim with vendors shoulder to shoulder, live music drifting across the street, the smell of fried food colliding with kettle corn and turkey legs. The annual Lafayette Peach Festival seemed to pull in the entire county, and then some, making it one of the biggest local festivals I’ve ever visited.
Wandering through the sprawl of booths felt familiar, like Boulder Creek Fest, the county fair, or a weekend farmers’ market, where soap makers, salsa sellers, jewelry stalls, and hot sauce hawkers are always part of the crowd.
But this festival was sprawling, even bigger than the fair, with enough room for plenty of new vendors to wedge themselves in.
Funny thing, though: for a Peach Festival, peaches were surprisingly scarce. Sure, you could find peach soap, peach jam, peach lotion, but actual peaches? You could count those stands on one hand. Maybe two or three vendors total, selling crates by the boxful, not slices or samples. Still, the fruit was everywhere.
Later, organizers explained to Yellow Scene Magazine that this was an intentional decision. Each year, there are three certified organic peach growers from Palisade that attend. They are invited so that the festival is opportunity uplift and support their local farmers.
People were lugging their crates down the street like they were stocking up for winter. I saw one family balancing three boxes between them, and they looked pretty pleased with themselves.
If peaches were missing from the booths, they more than made up for it in cobbler.
The longest lines by far were at the cobbler stations, three of them, turning out tray after tray of bubbling peach cobbler courtesy of The Huckleberry, the little Louisville diner on Main Street. Add a scoop of vanilla from Dairy Queen and suddenly it made sense why people were willing to stand half an hour in the blazing sun. That combo was the star of the show, worth the wait.
Me, I’m weak for two things: a good summer drink and pie. I gave in to a peach lemonade so big I needed both hands, tart and refreshing with just enough fruit flavor to feel festive. And then, because of course I did, I went home with a crumbly peach pie that didn’t last the weekend.
If I had one complaint, it’s that the festival never got weird with it. You know how pickle festivals lean in with pickle beer, pickle ice cream, even pickle tea? Here, aside from cobbler, lemonade, pie, and the occasional skincare product, things never got particularly adventurous. I kept waiting for someone to hand me a peach taco or a peach latte. Alas. Maybe next year.
At some point I started asking people the obvious question: So, how many peaches have you eaten today? Almost everyone laughed and admitted: None yet. Still, everyone seemed to have something peach-flavored in hand, whether it be a cobbler, a lemonade, or a cookie.
Support the local press that’s been telling the truth for 25 years. Become a sustaining member and get our monthly print edition at home. We’ve weathered 9/11, floods, fires, economic crashes—and some deeply chaotic years. With your support, we’ll keep going. Because democracy still depends on journalism.