Cosmetically Challenged

Hugo and I went to the Farmer's Market together this morning, just the two of us. Apparently, the Friday morning farmer's market is quite the place to go to attract attention for having a sweet tiny baby: not once, but twice I had to agree with a little old lady who proclaimed that Hugo is the cutest baby she has ever seen (this is the stuff a mother's dreams are made of, I tell you).

I have been buying local peaches and tomatoes by the bag full now that they're in season, and just as I was paying for my peaches, I noticed a big bag at the counter with a sign next to it that said "Cosmetically Challenged Peaches: $1/lb" I didn't' even bother looking through the bag before I said "I'll take it," because what is better than a peach pie made from some wonderfully over-ripe peaches? And who minds a little bruise or worm hole? Certainly not Lily and Zosia, who ate as many slices as I put in the pies. And of course I doubled the recipe, because I will take any excuse I can get to visit Ben's work, and who can say no to a peach pie?