The pits

Not THOSE Pitts. These pits. Last weekend I bought 20 lbs of peaches out in Abbotsford with Cynthia and Denise. They taste great…I’ve been eating them all week. They are juicy and delicious and sweet. So when I decided to make a pie today, I thought I was going to hit the jackpot in the taste factor for sure.

I took my time this afternoon making the pastry out of the Rustic Fruit Desserts cookbook I picked up at the grocery store yesterday. And the pastry part turned out just fine – the pie dough contained lemon juice and I think that made the pie crust very crispy and light. So yay for that! Since the flavour of the fruit was so great, I kept the filling very plain – just peaches, some sugar, some butter and an egg yolk.

I made the more boring pie ever. After it was cooked up, you could barely even taste the peach flavour. I have no idea what happened. So it tasted like nothing between some nice pie crust. AH BOO! We’ll have to add some ice cream to it for tomorrow. Maybe it will taste more peachy after it sits overnight? I guess I should try it for breakfast just to make sure. It is fruit after all. And the pioneers ate pie for breakfast. Mind you, they’d also have to walk 10 miles at least to get anywhere by noon. Me? I’ve just got to walk to the end of the street. Okay. I’ll have a small piece then.

I canned the rest of the peaches in pear syrup in my oldy-time jars and only had 2 break while boiling all those jars. I saved all the pits. According to my Farmer’s Almanac calendar, if you throw dried out pits into the fire, it will smell like peaches (or apricots – I saved a few of those pits, too.) while you’re hanging out by the fireplace. I sure hope that’s true because I’ve got about 40 peach pits sitting by the sink drying out.