Andrew Scrivani / New York Times News ServiceA good peach pie will often disappear in a flash, whereas a slab pie, on the other hand, will feed a crowd and still provide leftovers.

The sad truth about homemade peach pie is that there’s never enough.

As much as we all love pie for dessert, it’s nice to follow up with a midnight slice. If you’re lucky enough to have any left after that, well, nothing gets a body out of bed faster than the promise of the last syrupy slice in the pie dish for breakfast. But the reality is that most of the time a good peach pie will disappear moments after you plunge in the pie server, without any regard for the future.

A slab pie, on the other hand, has staying power.

Not only will it feed a crowd, but you will also still probably have leftovers, so you can offer seconds without having to fall back on granola in the morning.

A slab pie is also convenient in that you can make it all at once, rather than having to roll out the pastry for two separate pies. And it’s easier to carry to a picnic or party than two pies.

Most slab pies are made in shallow 11-by-17-inch jelly roll pans. In this recipe, I use a 9-by-13-inch baking dish; its taller sides will give you a deep dish pie, meaning you can stuff in more peaches or nectarines or berries or pears or plums.

Another difference between this pie and a more traditional slab pie: the top crust. Here, I use a cinnamon- and ginger-imbued streusel. It makes this seem like a cross between a crumble and a pie, with the flaky crust of the pie and the crunchy, sugary nubs of the crumble — the best of both worlds.

If you like to plan things ahead, you can make the pie dough and crumble topping a few days before and store them in the fridge. But the pastry is at its most crisp if you bake and eat on the same day. That said, no one but you will be the wiser if you bake it a day ahead. Store it overnight at room temperature, covered with a clean dish towel or foil (not plastic wrap) so it can breathe. A cover also keeps those tempting, easily snitched crumbles out of sight. Which, if you happen to be in the kitchen at midnight the day before your party, is a most necessary precaution.