The apricot orchards at Godshill Orchards on the Isle of Wight consist of 4,000 trees made up of six cultivars: sunnycot, tomcot, flavourcot, ladycot, perlecot and digat. Apricots like moderately cold winters, mild and relatively dry springs, and hot, dry summers. So, despite capricious weather, it looks as if it’s going to be an extremely productive year in the UK, and for peaches, too. The soft stone fruit season begins earlier in Italy (the name “apricot” probably comes from the Latin praecox, meaning precocious), and it has been a good year here, too, so much so that there is talk of a glut. But I am jumping ahead.

Of all the soft stone fruit, apricots are maybe the easiest to read: pale flesh with a greenish tint is a clear sign they are not ready; a deep, glowing orange one that they are – and the stronger the colour, the sweeter the fruit is the general rule. It is true, though, that the shade is no guarantee of sweetness or texture, and there is always a chance that the flesh will be woolly and bland (I have solutions), but the hope is for fragrant and luscious fruit.

Apricots and peaches have fleshy sweetness and acidity in common with tomatoes, so pair well with thick slices of mozzarella and basil, for a tricolour dish. Alternatively, wedges of both go beautifully with thin slices of prosciutto or smoked ham – summer on a plate – and not really cooking at all, the only effort being to track down some properly ripe and fragrant peaches and to tear open the packet. Another idea comes from Nigel Slater, who suggests a cool peach, cucumber and peanut salad with a white tahini, soy and toasted sesame oil dressing. Roast chicken with a peach and mint salad, in a mint and a light chilli and lime juice dressing, is another Nigel suggestion that would suit a hot day.

If you do have less than luscious fruit, however, the best thing to do is to apply heat, brushing halves lightly with oil, sprinkling them with salt and searing briefly on a griddle pan or over the barbecue; alternatively, stoneless halves can be brushed with honey and given some time under the grill. Both of these methods bring out sweetness. The grilled fruit can then be paired with grilled halloumi, as in Georgina Hayden’s sandwich with roast apricot jam, or used as a substitute for nectarines in Thomasina Miers’s grilled nectarine and burrata with pickled onions. Georgina also suggests grilled peach, gorgonzola and thyme tartine, while Yotam Ottolenghi makes a grilled peach salsa to go with chicken schnitzel.

When it comes to cooking, apricots pair beautifully with pork, as demonstrated by Nigel, who bakes chops with halved apricots, so the fat from the meat mingles deliciously with the softening fruit; he then stirs the mixture with yellow mustard seeds and a little fennel. Apricots also have a special affinity with lamb, their sweet acidity blending and bringing out the sweetness of the meat; I often bake lamb chops with wedges of peach, too.

If you put chunks of apricot or peach in a big bowl, cover them with cold rosé, then add ice cubes and lots of ripped basil, it makes a lovely and refreshing pudding, as do ripe apricots torn in half and topped with a blob of ricotta, a little honey and chopped pistachios. As temperatures soar, apricots and peaches can and should be blended into a puree, a little sugar added and frozen until hard enough that it can be scratched with a fork for an icy granita.

If you do want to cook, and your apricots are woolly, jam is the solution, and I recommend using instant pectin, which makes the whole process stress-free and quick. Ravneet Gill, meanwhile, poaches apricots with almond cream (pictured top), Jeremy Lee cooks apricots in a spicy syrup and serves them with lemon biscuits, and Felicity Cloake makes maybe the ultimate apricot pudding, a nutty tart that’s best served with cold cream.

My week in food

Home-cooking from Istanbul | The Turkish food writer, cookery teacher and author Özlem Warren’s much-anticipated second book, Istanbul, is a love letter to her 15 years in the Turkish capital. Evocative and practical, it is divided into sections on baking, street food, pickle shops and so on. The home-cooking chapter is particularly appealing: bulgur pilaf with peppers, onions and tomatoes, an easy manu (dumplings with minced meat and yogurt), beans and carrot palaki. Özlem’s many years of experience as a cooking teacher are apparent and extremely reassuring.

Food and family life | Hypocrisy, sibling rivalry, stale hoarded food, emptiness and vodka: critic DS Mirsky called Mikhail Saltykov-Shchedrin’s The Golovlyov Family, from 1880, the gloomiest book in all Russian literature, which, considering the competition, is quite a claim. Dark and hilarious, it is also a much more accurate reflection of family life than found in most books, and full of food that isn’t stale: mushrooms, jam, ham and peas, asparagus, raspberries, a puffing samovar and plenty of vodka.

Instant gratification | As the temperatures soar, thank goodness for instant couscous, feta, cherry tomatoes and cucumber, as well as the fact that, amazingly, the whole family isn’t bored with this speedy combination. After hydrating the couscous with equal parts boiling water, then fluffing it up, add a creamy paste made from a handful of cherry tomatoes blended to a paste with a bit of olive oil and salt. Stirred through the grains, this sweet paste gives them great flavour even before you toss the mix with more tomato, this time chopped, chunks of feta and diced cucumber. Keeping with this week’s stone fruit theme, you could also try Nik Sharma’s feta, nectarines, red onion and couscous salad.