Posts Tagged ‘Apple orchards’

My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn’t pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.
And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it’s like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep.

After Apple-Picking
By Robert Frost

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A few years ago, driving down the interstate from Minnesota to Illinois, a few hours of scenery into Wisconsin, a simple sign that just said APPLES in big red letters lured me off-road, past cranberry bogs, and to Rex’s barn where the sweet smell of apples invited me in. Since then, whenever I’m traveling this route in fall, I try to stop for apples – and did just that on my way home on Sunday.

I pulled into the drive, past the farmhouse, and to the barn, the cool Autumn air wafting in through the car windows, a family was backing their van out, leaving me a very nice space to park. They, and others, were on the midwest fall adventure of picking their own apples. Seeing them brought back memories of doing the same when our girls were young.

The barn was bustling with activity when I walked in. Apples were rolling down the washer and Rex family members were  explaining the process to bright eyed youngsters. I stepped into the cooling area, glad to have put on my jacket, sampled a few apples and cider before picking a bag of Cortland apples and a jumbo head of cabbage.

There was an “honor” box for purchases, but, I waited for a young lady to tally my purchase. I really just wanted to soak in the atmosphere of an apple orchard in fall, content in my haul – and that I wasn’t the one out in the orchard doing all the hard work!

Tom came home last night, with another even bigger bag of Cortlands, having stopped as well on his journey down the interstate. We are set with apples for some time here on the Cutoff.

Apple crisp, applesauce, and just plain eating apples out-of-hand are on the menu.  I’ve had a taste for an apple Dutch pancake, all puffed up and steamy from the oven, with a little dusting of powdered sugar on top. My favorite recipe for Dutch apple pancakes is from P. Allen Smith and can be found here. The picture below is from the site. I use my cast iron skillet and omit the caramel sauce.

Do you have some favorite apple baking recipes?

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