My Idea of Fun

A couple of weeks ago while I was pushing Poppy in her stroller aimlessly around the village, I went down a side street I hadn't been down before and saw a property that had two trees absolutely loaded with apples.

I didn't know who lived there, but based on the age of the pick-up truck in front and the neatness of the property, I was guessing someone elderly. Also based on the fact that the majority of the village residents are elderly, but whatever. I felt very sleuthy.

Anyway.

About a week after that, A. was pushing Poppy aimlessly around in her stroller, with Jack trailing along as well, when Nick the Peach-Giver pulled up in his truck and informed A. that there was a man who had lots of apples and wanted anyone who wanted some to come pick them.

Same property I had seen. It is indeed an older man, who, although not elderly, has multiple sclerosis and therefore can't pick the apples himself.

A. returned with the bottom basket of the stroller overflowing with apples. And there was much rejoicing in our house.

My children absolutely adore apples, you see. But not mealy, tasteless grocery store apples. Their apple palate has been formed in the apple haven of New York State. They know good apples. And they know the ones from the store are not good. So when ten pounds of good apples showed up, they were thrilled.

I was, too. I was all set to make applesauce, because that is what I do when presented with a bunch of apples. I had a suspicion, though, based on the texture of these apples, that they might be more like baking apples instead of saucing apples. Saucing apples break down readily into mush when cooked. Baking apples hold their shape.

When I cooked an experimental small pot of the apples, not only did they hold their shape, they didn't break down at all. I managed to force them through the food mill after much effort, but the resulting sauce was quite mealy and dry.

So now what? Still have a bunch of apples (with more to come*); still needed a way to preserve them.

Then I remembered Rafael telling me about his mother drying apricots. I decided when in New Mexico, one should do as the New Mexicans. So I prepared an experimental sheet pan of apple rings and put them out in the sun (covered in cheesecloth to keep off flies).

The jar in the background of that photo has apple peelings and cores with water to make apple cider vinegar. I did this a few times in northern New York with varying levels of success, but it's not as if it's hard to do or costs anything.

Anyway.

Result? Perfect. This is the perfect climate for sun-drying. Not only is the sun very strong, there's quite a bit of wind, too. Those apple rings were all the way dry after about twelve hours in the sun.

And then they were gone within about an hour in the house. They are so good. And so convenient to just pick up and eat. Even Poppy can eat them.

So I made more, this time also using the broiler pan from the oven.

And then I decided I really needed a way to get more apple slices in the sun without taking up a bunch of space with pans. So now this is in my driveway:

Hi, neighbors!  Don't mind us crazy new people.

If that arrangement works, I can string up as many apple slices as I want. My only limitation is the number of apples I can peel, core, and slice by hand with a knife, because I don't have one of those machines to do it. If this is going to be a yearly event, I might get one of those, but for now it's just me and my paring knife versus a LOT of apples.

And that makes me happy.

* We brought a loaf of bread to the man last night as a thank you--because sourdough bread has now become my currency--and he asked us to pick more apples. We were happy to oblige.