It’s the time of year when peaches are piled so high on the counter that we hardly make a dent in them as we eat one after another, on the back porch or leaning over the sink, juice running down our wrists. The baby reaches for them: “apple! Apple!” (All fruit is “apple” in her lexicon.) We get peaches in our CSA box every week, and buy more, and then our neighbors came over with a heaping bowl, sharing the bounty of a box they brought home from some warmer, peach-growing place.
I’m afraid I can’t write a post for you tonight because I am too absorbed with Pinterest, which I never really explored before today. Ooh, pretty! Very distracting. I see the attraction now. Come visit me at pinterest.com/emmycooks/, wouldja?But here’s the nice thing about jam, I guess: it can happen in the background in fits and starts while you’re doing other things. (Cooking an elaborate Senegalese feast, for example, or fooling around on the internet.) Continue reading →