Baking Through The Seasons

My beautiful wife bakes beautiful pies.

This past summer one of the highlights of the week was the baking-selling sequence from Friday night into Saturday morning. Here’s why.

When we have fresh fruit available, and Nichole had a free hour or two, she would bake pies on Friday evening for the Farmers Market on Saturday.  At the crack of dawn, or as early as we could get out of bed, I scurry around collect vegetables and cutting, washing, and bagging greenes.  By loading time, Sorren and Chloe would be awake and helping me to load Elmo (our ’65 Chevy pickup).  Nichole packs the pies into a paper bag with dishtowels snuggled around them to keep things steady.

After our 2 minute drive to the market, we set up, we wait, we watch hungrily to see who looks interested in the pies.  Do we want them to sell?

That is a complicated question.  If they all sell, we won’t have pie for dessert that night.  If they do sell, it might actually be worth going to the market.  To paraphrase my childhood expression: we’d like to sell, of course, but I need the pie might bad.

Nichole makes strawberry-rhubarb pies in June, raspberry in July, and blueberry (or better raspberry & blueberry) in August. Let us know if you would like to order one.

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