Apple week

Earlier this week, we met some friends at the apple orchard to partake in that autumn rite of passage: The Apple Pick, thereby completing our fruit-picking trifecta for the year. This is a great thing for little kids to do. Liam was a bit perturbed that he couldn't stuff his face with fruit right there in the field (a la strawberry pick and blueberry pick), but you can pick ten pounds of apples much faster than ten pounds of blueberries... so the task is over before boredom sets in.

On the way out to the orchard, Liam peppered me with questions about who our friends were that we would be meeting there. That little boy, what's his name? And his baby sister, what's her name? And Colin's mom, is she your friend, mom? Conveniently enough, Colin is Liam's age, and Meghan is Mallory's age. Then we got to the orchard, and given the chance to actually play with Colin, Liam ignored him the entire time. It figures. That part I expected, but then I was treated to a lengthy discussion on the way home about how Meghan didn't pick any apples, mom, she didn't get out of the stroller. And then, after thinking about it a while, he made the same observation about Mallory.

Anyway, we are now in the thick of apple week. I have been collecting apple recipes for several weeks now, and it's a good thing, because we came home with 17 pounds of fruit. On Monday night we started out with apple fritters - I am not normally a deep-frying kind of girl, but these, I like. Yesterday I tried Yvonne's Done to Death Apple Bread, from a message board I have been frequenting since 2003 where I see this recipe get posted and raved about every autumn. It's good, but maybe I was expecting something more. Today I was going to make applesauce, to balance out the grease and sugar we've been smothering our fruit in thus far; but every time I mention applesauce, Liam says, "Pie mom, I want some pie." The healthy stuff has been overruled, at least for today.