Ahhh Fall….a time to enjoy the fall foliage, the brisk weather, packing away the flip flops and of course the dreaded apple picking with the grandkids.
The plan was simple….our families would all drive to New Jersey enjoying the aforementioned foliage, to an orchard where we would pick the apples right off the vine, umm I mean tree. Take 200 pictures of the kids climbing in the trees that are clearly marked NO CLIMBING and arrive home to start slicing and baking. The reality is that Route 9 has no foliage, Fall or otherwise, and besides isn’t New York called the Big Apple for a reason? And while the intention is always there, most of the hand picked apples remain in a bowl on the dining room table waiting to be transformed into pies as they rot and ferment.
The orchard had rows and rows of trees marked with white, yellow and green tags designating what tree held what apples. Obviously not a fruit connoissuer, I don’t know a Winesap from a Rome, a Delicious from a Granny Smith…what I do know is that yellow-jacks love them all. If I wasn’t stepping on rotten, yellow-jack infested apple, I was picking a rotten yellow-jack infested apple off the trees. Of course I had to taste one from every kind of tree (freebies!) and by the time we had finished ravishing the orchard I never wanted to see, let alone eat another apple. And yes, it is true…apples are definitely a diuretic! I peed six times in two hours. Although the trees were smaller than any tree in Brooklyn, the best apples (of course) were way on top, I am supposing where the yellow-jacks are afraid to fly. We rented a pole. An apple picking pole…which looked more like a bag on a stick, than the bag on a stick it actually was. By the time you got the apple positioned above the bag, pulled back the pole to knock the apple off its branch, you whacked two people behind you and the apple fell mindlessly to the ground where it was immediately covered with…yup, yellow-jacks! We took more pictures in the trees, in front of the trees, group shots, family shots, and me sitting in various places trying to rest my bad knee. I sat on a felled branch, inside a Winesap tree, and my personal favorite the inverted apple bucket. My knee well rested, my ass numb from the bucket handle, we moved on to pumpkins. With an upcoming family pumpkin carving contest, that has taken on a life of it’s own complete with voting rules and a trophy, we needed to get big pumpkins. The buckets filled with what felt like a ton of apples didn’t leave much strength for carrying pumpkins. Large pumpkins. Pumpkin carving pumpkins. Trophy winning large pumpkin carving pumpkins. So we shifted things around in a wagon someone had the insight to bring and loaded it up like a pack mule navigating the Grand Canyon. We carefully chose the ones we wanted, good shape, no rot, strong stem…however I had my own criteria….not more than 3 feet from where I stood and if I bent to pick it up I was taking it home. Luckily I chose well and my pumpkin was perfect.
The lines to pay for the apples/pumpkins looked as if they were giving them away….ten deep with people struggling to carry their apples and pumpkins, swatting yellow-jacks and screaming at their now tired and cranky kids. Not us of course, our kids were perfect. After we got our produce to the cars we decided to meet up at the store conveniently located on the way out of the orchard. Their claim to fame was their hot apple cider donuts which was evident in the line snaking around the store. Not a donut in the world could get me on that line, if Mr. Dunkin’ himself was serving me….but as I went in the store, my son in law got on the line for a bag of the coveted donuts. The store was absolutely packed…apples were cheaper than they were in the orchard which led me to believe we had just paid for the pleasure of yellow-jack swatting and our photo op sessions. They had apple flavored everything which made sense and chocolate covered everything which made less sense but got my vote. I bought a cup of much needed coffee and forgot to get one for my husband, I bought an apple muffin and forgot to buy one for my husband. (see a pattern here) I gave up both when we met up outside because I am an amazing wife….that and the fact that I had a bag full of chocolate covered things I was not prepared to share. Having not moved an inch on the cider donut line my son in law threw in the towel and settled for something apple flavored that my daughter bought him. Our cars were all loaded with the apples designed to become pies but destined to be left in a bowl on the dining room table as proof that we went apple picking. That and the 200 pictures.
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