peach cobbler redefined

I got off to a good start. Fixed a fresh peach cobbler in a clear glass pie plate.

It was simple:
3 or 4 peaches sliced,
a little water,
a little brown sugar,
cinnamon

Topped with pie crust from a box, patted flat between my hands. I arranged the crust on top of the filing and put the pie in the carefully pre-heated 350 degree F oven.

While we ate sandwiches for lunch, I checked on the cobbler. Definitely looking good! Needs fifteen more minutes, I told myself.

So I went back to graphic design on my computer in the basement. And forgot about the cobbler. Really. Didn't think about it again for two hours -- when I went upstairs for something and smelled a very sweet smell.

The cobbler was burnt to a blackened crisp. Nothing left worth photographing.

"Well, at least it smells good!" said Boo.

Which reminds me, didn't I say the aroma of good food cooking fills me up as much as eating the food?

Guess it is true . . .