I actually teared up when I saw the season’s first apricots at the Davis farmers market on Saturday. Golden, knee-weakeningly fragrant and velvety soft, the gorgeous stone fruit was an early variety called Poppycock and it tasted like heaven. Carried away by foodie emotion, I bought way too many and ended up lugging home an overflowing box that made my husband chortle when I lurched through the front door. I immediately put my eight year old daughter to work, and we paired up in the kitchen to remove the apricot stones and cut the fruit into slices (she has a plastic pink knife that’s perfect for the job). Afterward, we made an apricot and fresh cherry pie, and decided (after devouring several slices) that it may very well be the best pie we have ever tasted.