Apple Picking

The two young girls down the street, the ones who went on a hobo picnic with their Dad not long ago, have an apple tree in the front yard. I approached their Mom one year about picking her apples for her and we've been friends ever since. Cora and I visit their dog each day and sometimes take her with us on our walks. The girls have gone from shyly silent to calling me by my first name and waving when they see me. So, when their huge apple crop threatened to overwhelm them this year, they invited me over for apple picking.

The girls are amazing. The older girl was up the tree in a trice, picking apples and dropping them into our waiting baskets. The younger girl got halfway up the tree and contributed a few of her own - she's game, but she's small yet. Then I got out my picker and we snagged a few more from the upper branches. Of course, we missed some that dropped onto the grass in a small bombardment - the ones that weren't badly bruised went into the baskets, too.

So, here's my lunch the next day - sweet apple and tangy cheddar cheese slices to remind me of the fun of apple picking with my neighbors. I'm thinking of making apple tarts and inviting them over for a tea party.

Relishing Porkiness

Onions and apples have always been good friends with pork - they are naturals together - so when I had two nice thick pork chops, an apple that needed eating and a nice big onion in the fridge, it seemed like a match made in heaven.

First, I cut a deep pocket into the fat side of each chop with a sharp knife, taking care to keep the blade level so the pocket sides would be evenly thick. The chops were about an inch thick, so the resulting pocket was about 1/2" thick on each side.

Then, I diced finely about 3/4 of a large apple (snacked on the rest while I worked) and the same amount of onion. I sautéed them both in a little butter, just until the onion was translucent and the apple had softened a bit, added about a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar to the pan and tossed the dice to coat. Into each chop pocket, I spooned a healthy portion of the apple-onion relish, reserving the rest.

I browned the chops on both sides using a little olive oil in a heavy frying pan (being careful not to dump out the stuffing when I turned them), then added a generous splash of chicken broth to the pan and put the lid on. Steaming the chops this way kept the meat moist while it cooked for about 10-15 minutes more. My Beloved likes his pork slightly on the pink side, so I took his out a few minutes before mine. These cook faster than chops without pockets so watch them carefully.

Laying the chops on the plates, I spooned the rest of the reserved apple-onion mixture over the chops. The vinegar added a lively tang to the sweet and savory of the apple-onion flavors and gave another dimension to the rich chops. I would happily make this again - it was easy, relatively quick and we relished (sorry 'bout that!) every bite.

Apple Hearts

I had two aging Pink Lady apples in my fruit bowl for what seemed like months. They weren't to the shriveled stage - Pink Ladies are stayers - but that wasn't far behind so it was time to use them to make an apple tart.

The recipe I used before, however, called for five or six apples, not just two. Hmmm. Then, I read on the DuFour frozen pastry package that any leftover pastry could be used for other things, so I decided to try making as many tartlets as I had apples.

Using some of my sweet pomegranate syrup with a little tart lemon juice added (next time, I might try bathing them in maple syrup and lemon juice if I have run out of the pomegranate), I sliced the apples thinly and poured the syrup/lemon juice over them, mixing them up and letting them stand together while I rolled out the pastry. Because My Beloved was returning that day from a business trip, I used a cookie cutter to make the heart shapes to tickle his fancy.

Once the hearts were placed on a parchment paper-lined cookie sheet, I laid four overlapping apple slices on each, sprinkled them with a light dusting of allspice and just a tad of coarse vanilla sugar before sliding them into a 375 degree oven for about 15-20 minutes. The pastry puffed up proudly and the apples relaxed like fruity odalisques onto the pastry pillows, turning just lightly brown at the tips while the rich scents of vanilla and allspice filled the kitchen.

The result was crispy on the bottoms and softly chewy on the tops, very apple-y and not very sweet, thanks to the extra lemon juice in the syrup. I like the allspice as a change from the more familiar cinnamon and the tiny pinch of vanilla sugar was just right.

I started out with the idea of making an Apple Tart, but these Apple Hearts are even better.

In the Pink

Your eyes do not deceive, these apple slices are pink. When I read Molly's recipe for apple tart, I decided to make one of my own, but couldn't resist a little twist or two on hers.

First, I substituted store-bought buttery puff pastry for her pie-type pastry - much easier! Then, I sprinkled the sliced apples with ground allspice. The pink twist came about when I added pomegranate seeds to the apple glaze in her recipe.

I had never opened a pomegranate before so I was unprepared for the glorious jewels of the pips nestled snugly amongst the white pith - in fact, I had to read up online for techniques of opening it! I wanted to add the pips to the apple glaze for the sweet-tart flavor that one associates with pomegranates but I fell for the color, a clear, rich, shiny red.

I added a whole pomegranate worth of seeds to the apple glaze made from the cores and skins of the apples in the tart, boiling them down with sugar to make a syrup for glazing. Painted over the cooled tart, it turned the apples from whitish to a playful pink. The flavor was festive, too, exactly the tangy enhancement to the sweet apples that I was hoping for.

The rest of the guests at Meathenge Labs seemed to agree - even Cookiecrumb, who doesn't like desserts, had a bite and said it was tasty, light and surprisingly pink.

Waldorf with a Twist

We had some nice Fuji apples in the fridge but not enough for a pie or a tart, so instead I had the idea to make apple salad. I didn't want a heavy, honest-to-the-recipe Waldorf salad but I did want some sweet and savory crunch.

I diced the apples, some celery and fennel, mixed that all together with some raisins.

All that sweetness needed something to keep it from being cloying, so I added a full lemon's worth of juice and the zest from half the lemon to a very little mayo and stirred them together. Also added a handful of walnut pieces for the nutty bitterness, two green onions, sliced, and a lot of fresh thyme from the garden to slide it over to the savory side. Toss and tumble.

All in all, we were pleased with this twist on the Waldorf.

Lady Apple Magic

To me, there is something magical about being able to share ideas, chuckles, emotions and recipes halfway around the world with friends you've never met. Having been born well before the Computer Age, it still seems mildly miraculous, as long-distance phone calling or color television must have seemed to my great grandmother.

Morgan in Australia, for heaven's sake, read my post about making applesauce and suggested that my own diminutive apples might be crab apples, something she and her mother have used to make jelly when she was a girl. So, I clambered down the steep hill behind my house on the other side of the globe in California and picked all the little apples, hoping to make jelly from their recipe despite never having attempted jelly before.

The jelly making itself is somewhat magical, too. You just wash the little apples, barely cover them with water, bring them to a boil and simmer them until the apples are soft. Pour through a colander to catch the now-tired apples and into a large measuring bowl so you know how much juice you have, then through a double layer of muslin (I used culinary cheesecloth) to clarify the juice. Add a cup of sugar for each cup of apple water and stir to dissolve completely.

Raise again to the boil and keep boiling until the resulting syrup reduces dramatically and reaches the setting point, in my case about 30-45 minutes, checking every 10 minutes or so. Skim off any unattractive foam, pour carefully down the sides of warm, sterilized jars to keep bubbles from forming and seal immediately. You'll know when the setting point is reached in three ways: first, the whole kitchen will suddenly smell apple-y; second, the syrup, when spooned onto a cold saucer, will gel after a few seconds of cooling; and third, what was clear liquid at the start will magically take on a pink-to-red color depending on the color of the apples you used. Mine were about half and half green and red, so I got this lovely goldy-pink color - Morgan tells me that she and her Mum's was rich ruby red, like the magical Ruby Slippers in a story about a land called Oz.

So, call me fanciful if you will but I think this whole process of reaching around the world for cherished family recipes is a mystical, magical delight.

Peaches for Apples

I'm sure you've heard the old adage, "What goes around, comes around." A simple statement of profound truth.

Weeks ago, during the rich rush of peach season, when we were threatened with overwhelm by an avalanche of ripe peaches, I picked a whole big bag of them and walked along our little street, knocking on doors and giving away peaches. If the neighbors were home, they got to choose their peaches. If they weren't home, they came back to a bag of peaches hanging on their doorknob. There's more than one way to redistribute a glut of peaches.

This week, I got the urge to make applesauce. I enjoy making applesauce - it's undemanding, always tasty and gives me a sense of accomplishment when I see my jars of golden sauce waiting for the fall and winter's pork roasts or waffles or whatever. I do have an apple tree, too, but it produces what I'd kindly call "lady apples," tiny apples perfect for a Leprechaun's lunch but not much good for making a batch of applesauce.

My neighbor at the end of the street has a real apple tree, one that produces nice red apples big enough to fill your palm, and then some. I noted on my morning rambles that some of their apples lay on their pretty patch of grass for days and days; they are a small family. They remembered my peaches and were happy to offer apples in return. So, I get apples because I gave peaches and they will get applesauce because they gave apples and we all get happy neighborly feelings. Another old adage, "It's a win-win situation."

Re-Gilding the Lily

When you start with lovely, just-picked Gravenstein apples from a new friend's garden, you don't really need to enhance them. They are sweet-tart and beautifully pale green inside - delicious all by themselves.

My Beloved, however, happens to be very fond of apple crisp and, since I happen to be very fond of him, I immediately peeled and sliced my new gift apples and topped them with a squeeze of lemon juice and the classic mixture of flour, butter, cinnamon and brown sugar. I thought the topping-to-apples ratio was a little to heavy on the topping but MB claims that that's the whole point of apple crisp so I let myself be persuaded.

Did we really need the added embellishment of the Swensen's vanilla ice cream that our friend Ted bought while he was visiting from St. Louis and left behind to swell our waistlines instead of his? Probably not.

And certainly not for breakfast, which is when we ate it. With apologies to Wheaties, this is the true Breakfast of Champions!

Apple Smile Pie

Apple pie. Heaven in a buttery crust, especially when this time I thought to add some of the anise seeds that last summer Cookiecrumb taught me are delicious. They had been growing right outside my door but I never tasted them until she urged me to do so.

Thanks, Cookiecrumb, they have enhanced lots of meals at our house, most recently this apple pie!