Peaches are golden goodness, true nectar of the gods. Sticky, sweet, juicy bites. I like my peaches sliced, maybe with a dash of cinnamon. They’re best alone but also great in jams or pies. The best peaches this summer came from the Livingston Farmer’s Market. My mom would bring them home and I could easily eat a pound. Another great memory of peaches includes this past summer, when I went to the beach with Cass and Marie. We went to Seaside Heights and had a wonderful day. I had brought sliced peaches (from the Livingston Farmer’s Market) as a snack. And we shared the juicy fruit. There is nothing like the cool, sweet nectar of a peach dribbling down your throat and chin in the summertime; The heat of the warm summer sun, the taste of salt in the air, ocean waves crashing, gulls crying out. Summer days like that are why I’m glad I grew up in New Jersey and nowhere else. Out of season peaches are traitors. Previously frozen peaches are traitors. There is nothing worse than a mealy peach, or one stuck to the pit. It is so frustrating and disappointing when you get a peach like that. It’s probably one of the reasons why Farmer’s Markets are superior to supermarkets.