I don't want to start another post in disbelief that, once again, time has passed much too quickly for my liking. But really, how is it almost November already?
The family and I went apple picking for the Thanksgiving weekend, an outing that is turning into a yearly tradition. We picked Galas and Honeycrisps and Mutsus and Jonagolds, plus Fujis and Golden Delicious and Ambrosias, oh my. All twenty pounds of apples have been baked, cooked and consumed. I made six jars of
applesauce and it was, bias aside, the best tasting applesauce of my life. Every time I eat a spoonful, I actually take A Moment to enjoy the apple goodness and pray to the cooking gods that I can recreate this perfection next year.
A pie was baked. I am slowly getting the hang of pie crust (I'm quite proud of the edges). The smell of freshly baked apple pie was too tempting and the pie was sliced into before it had the chance to cool, which resulted in major juice leakage. I'm assuming this is the norm and I have learned my lesson for next time.
