Peach Crisp

I'm a sucker for a good old fashioned home baked dessert.  Wait a second.  I'm all of a sudden wondering if this is why I just can't lose this "baby" weight I'm carrying around.  Oh no, I'm sure that's not it. 

Anyway, I baked up a peach crisp today because with my new kitchen, I feel awfully homey and domestic all the time.  I practically wear an apron to bed.  I'm not really a peach kind of girl, I usually go for the apple desserts.  Peaches are so temperamental.  One day they are hard as a rock, the next, soft, mushy and bruised.  They need therapy, and I just don't have the time. 

So why did I make a peach crisp?  Well, a good friend bought me this great cookbook by the Pioneer Woman.  The Pioneer Woman is this fabulous mom/cook/blogger/homeschooler/photographer/ranch woman who writes about her everyday life in a way that always makes me laugh. She also includes yummy recipes which make me want to run to the store to buy every ingredient she lists and whip up a home cooked meal for my hard-workin' hubby.  She's good.

One recipe I've been wanting to try is her peach crisp.  So for Father's Day, I bought a pallet of peaches from Costco, and made a crisp.  Well, the peaches were giving me some attitude that day, and stayed hard as a rock.  The crisp was tart and disappointing.  Today, however, the peaches reached their perfect zenith of ripeness.  I wasn't planning on making a crisp, but when I saw them smiling up at me from the bowl this morning, I knew it had to be done. 

Here's the finished product.

And here's a sideways view of the cookbook.  I don't know why I took the picture sideways and I don't know how to fix it, so here you go.  I'd better not pass up this opportunity to give a shout out to my homegirl...thanks Heather for the fabulous book!!!

As the crisp baked and bubbled in the oven, the children were happy.  They would never dream of asking over and over and over again, "When is it going to be done?" in whiny voices.  Oh no, not my children.

Yum.

Double yum.

This is almost too much.

While I was serving up the peachy goodness, I asked the girls to take a serving out to their dad.  A few minutes later, I joined the family on the back porch, only to find this....

Did I expect any different?

No, but apparently, Danny did.  He assumed that bowl was all his. 

But being the gracious father he is, the children were fed, and he was left with the bits at the bottom. 

The babies felt like they didn't really get a fair deal either, since they each had to share with two other people. 

Popsicles were in order to even it all out.

And everything was all right.

We spent another harmonious evening in the backyard with our four sticky fingered kids. 

And one other very deserving family member went back for seconds.  In my book, farmers get all the peach crisp they want, especially the incredibly handsome ones.