Apple picking is one fall activity I have never tired of. My sons no longer want to accompany me, but thankfully I have other people in my life who also enjoy it. This past weekend was the first time I'd ventured to an orchard I'd never been to before. While the familiarity of my usual choice was missing, the experience of walking through rows of apple trees was much the same.
I grew up running around an apple orchard. My mother worked in one before I was born, packing apples. Her first husband worked there, as did his father. I remember my then-grandfather giving me rides on the forklift, touring the cider press room (that smell is something I won't ever forget), and seeing the large crates of apples stacked high all around. There is no other smell quite as intense for me, bringing me back to my childhood, as the smell of apples in an orchard storehouse.
I have little doubt that my love for baking with apples is because the house fills with memories of growing up. Of course, as much as I love inhaling the heavenly aroma of baking apples, eating them raw is my favorite. Right off the apple tree.
There's an unwritten, widely accepted, and frequently utilized practice of testing the apples while picking them. Each and every time I find myself in an orchard, I make certain to try one or two of the season's offerings. Fresh apples are always the best, and you can't get much fresher than right off the branch. I rarely eat apples any other time of the year, simply because they just don't taste as good. Low-carb diet or not, during apple picking season, I will get my fill of this near perfect fruit.
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