Only four ingredients are needed: peaches, sugar, white wine and basil.

Amanda energetically separates basil leaves from their stems. This part is optional -- she was just in the mood for precision.

It was so humid that the sugar clumped together in iceberg-like chunks. Here, it's being added to water and white wine (a Gruner Veltliner, Riesling or something else floral is especially nice).

Lovely local peaches.

Not so lovely when you try to separate the halves.

Clingstone, no less!

As we struggle with the peaches, the syrup simmers happily away.

Back on the battlefield...

The aftermath. It's not pretty.

Luckily, we found that most of the butchered peach halves looked just fine once we turned them over!

The basil goes into the syrup to infuse.

Followed by the peaches, pretty side up!

Cooking time will depend on the ripeness of your peaches. This batch took nearly 15 minutes to soften and release their skins, but our first one only took about 6.

Still waiting on those peaches.

When the skins are ready to come off, they pucker and wrinkle. Amanda noted that they start to look like the skin of an elephant.

The rest of the basil goes in, and the syrup (now pink from the peaches) gets reduced so the flavors become concentrated.

Our skins were still a little resistant, but we managed to peel them off eventually!

Tuesday was a rainy day in Brooklyn, but we loved the moody natural light.

Blackberries, gooseberries, black currants and raspberries, all from Amanda's local Greenmarket.

Say hello to Anabelle (who hails from Colorado) and Lily, our talented summer interns.

You add sugar to the berries before simmering them to break them down.

A little mashing helps -- Merrill used a potato masher.

Meanwhile, Amanda obsessively checks email.

The berries, blended and mashed and simmered to a sauce-like consistency.

Then the (not-so) fun part: pressing through a sieve. Don't worry -- takes just a minute but it's important to get out those seeds!

Sour cream on the left, and gelatin and milk "blooming."

Infusing the cream with basil.

Blending in the berry puree. See how you leave the basil in there?

Cooling in an ice bath.

Merrill whips cream while Amanda fishes out the basil.

In goes the sour cream!

Time for folding.

Try your best not to eat it all now.

There goes Merrill!

To unmold the panna cotta, set it in a bowl of hot (not boiling) water, and run a thin knife around the edge.

Amanda's strange unmolding technique.