On a perfect summer evening, what do you do? Where are you? The coast of Maine, maybe. Or an airy cabin in the woods in New Hampshire. Maybe you're on a lake, and you walk out to the end of a long, worn dock to sit in an Adirondack chair and watch the sunset over the glassy water.

Strictly speaking, it's not quite peach season. It's that odd, in-between month where stone fruit spills over the stands at the grocery store, but hasn't shown up at the farmers' market yet.

But once you start thinking about peach pie, it's really hard to go back. We're already down that path. So we're going to make some pie. Except, the early days of June make 8 ripe peaches hard to come by, so we're going to throw some strawberries in to make up the extra volume!

Strawberries have reached peak perfection at the farmer's market. The red Tristar berries are tiny and deep red, stems still attached. Pale green cardboard pints of them crowd the tables, jostling for view. They win out for me over more sensible purchases: zucchini, snap peas, radishes. You know you don't need 2 pints -- strictly speaking -- but they're juicy and voluptuous and enticing. Everyone oohs and aahs over them, like wedding guests seeing the bride for the first time.