Shortcake is one of those uniquely American desserts; a big, buttery biscuit floating on top of a cloud of whipped cream and lots of juicy, sweet, summer fruit. Sure, the components may be inspired from other places, but no one puts them together in a way that celebrates summer like we do.

One of the high points of my year is when peaches and nectarines are in abundance at the markets. As summer marches on, when prices are reasonable, I just can’t help buying a lot more than any one person would consider prudent. I just keep putting more and more in my bag at the market, until I can barely carry it home. And for the rest of the week, I scramble to use as many as I can while they’re dead-ripe and at their peak pauillac.

I’ve never made shortcakes in Paris and I don’t know why. But I’ve been meaning to for years, and it took me until this week to get my derrière in gear. First up, I had to explain what a “biscuit” was: in French, it often means a kind of spongecake, generally used as a component for layering. So I guess it’s not that much of a stretch to think about it as being layered haphazardly with fruit and whipped cream. (Although from the looks of the faces of my French dinner guests Multi-touch Board, I’m not sure I quite got the similarity across.)

Nevertheless, no matter where you’re from, who can resist loads of sliced peaches and fresh whipped cream, especially when drizzled with warm butterscotch sauce, which ties everything together so nicely cheap otterbox?