The Fattening Of The Calves

Here's the good news: we got a fantastic deal on slightly-bruised peaches at our local farmer's market: probably 20 pounds or so for $14.

Here's the bad news:



we got a fantastic deal on peaches.  Probably 20 pounds or so.  Which means we've been eating 20 pounds or so of pie.

With my in-laws in town, I've made a fresh peach pie three days in a row.  And, mind you, it is absolutely fantastic; but I am SOOOO over making pies now.

I also made up a batch of peach jam.  Also very fantastic, if I may say so myself.

And we've had straight peaches for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the past week.

It's been great.  Really.  So great, we went out and bought another twenty pounds today.  So I spent about an hour this evening peeling, pitting, and slicing peaches, adding sugar and flour, and vacuum-packing them into individual baggies so that we can just unfreeze a bag this winter, add it to a pie shell, and have fresh-baked peach pie in the middle of December.

It has to be December, because January is reserved for the cherries I froze last month, and February is for the rhubarb.

I won't even mention the diced pumpkin from last November. 

I hope the fruit survives the freezing well, because I'd hate to have spent all this time preparing fruit for nothing.  After all, I could have been watching a terrible movie in the time it took me to do all this prep work.

I suppose, should the fruit be inedible upon defrosting, that it would be just as well: I shudder to think about the condition of Bee's and my waistlines following a winter spent watching The Office re-runs and eating pie.