I hate and love summer.

Summer is wonderful for fresh produce and grilling and getting my skin to stop being quite so translucent. Unfortunately for B in AZ and, more surprisingly, for me in NY, summer is just too hot for baking. Every time I turn on the oven I find myself praying to be delivered from hell. I live in an attic apartment with my husband (who, during the summer, seems to run disappointingly hot) and if we don't have our one window AC running, I could practically cook a loaf of bread by simply mixing the dough and leaving it in a pan for a couple of hours. The midwest gave us a heat wave a few weeks ago and it's just now starting to cool enough to think about baking. I'm dying to do custard again; it just tasted so good and it's a great chilled dessert. But I've had peaches in the fridge and I've hidden the gingersnaps from the hubby and as much as I'm craving custard, I know what's next.

Peach pie with a gingersnap crust, only days away.