Last spring I had to switch to Granny Smith apples when the Pink Lady supply ran dry. Granted, there are far greater tragedies in life-- such as just a couple weeks later when the only apples available in this beautiful orchard country came all the way from Washington--but i do remember truly missing them. So this year, I am planning ahead.
And why not? I freeze/can/jam/dry every other fruit that i madly love and even ones i just sorta like a little. Apples, second only, probably, to apricots, for my habitual love of them, surely deserve a place in my cold storage. And so begins the madness.
I started with apple sauce. But I only made one jar. Silly, I know, but I wanted to be sure that it turned out all right before making a ginormous batch--vanilla beans are expensive, after all, and I didnt need another incident like the champagne peach fiasco. Now, however, it is time to make a vanilla investment, because the sauce was lovely. Goes to show when you have apples as wonderful as Pink Ladies, it doesnt take alot to make em shine, just water, heat and vanilla in this case. Oh so pretty too.
Next: the rings of ladies in my dehydrater right now. The last of a big batch, I have already snuck a few. It says something that I am even bothering with these, as dried is about the last way I would eat an apple--though juice is right up there too. But since a pal wooed me with amazying oatmeal walnut cookies laced with sneaky little bits of dried apples, my opinions changed. They did so even further with the ones I am doing myself. Again, its those darn Pink Ladies, they shine with flavour even when you suck the life out of them.
This weekend: apple butter, so that the ladies can join me for breakfast through spring and summer until they return in full form in the fall.
Let the craziness (aside from referring friend-like to apples) begin. Its a girls weekend.
And why not? I freeze/can/jam/dry every other fruit that i madly love and even ones i just sorta like a little. Apples, second only, probably, to apricots, for my habitual love of them, surely deserve a place in my cold storage. And so begins the madness.
I started with apple sauce. But I only made one jar. Silly, I know, but I wanted to be sure that it turned out all right before making a ginormous batch--vanilla beans are expensive, after all, and I didnt need another incident like the champagne peach fiasco. Now, however, it is time to make a vanilla investment, because the sauce was lovely. Goes to show when you have apples as wonderful as Pink Ladies, it doesnt take alot to make em shine, just water, heat and vanilla in this case. Oh so pretty too.
Next: the rings of ladies in my dehydrater right now. The last of a big batch, I have already snuck a few. It says something that I am even bothering with these, as dried is about the last way I would eat an apple--though juice is right up there too. But since a pal wooed me with amazying oatmeal walnut cookies laced with sneaky little bits of dried apples, my opinions changed. They did so even further with the ones I am doing myself. Again, its those darn Pink Ladies, they shine with flavour even when you suck the life out of them.
This weekend: apple butter, so that the ladies can join me for breakfast through spring and summer until they return in full form in the fall.
Let the craziness (aside from referring friend-like to apples) begin. Its a girls weekend.
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