OK – they weren’t diamond hard, nor blue or from the vacinity of the Moon. It was just a song title I nabbed to make the heading sound interesting. Ahhhh, but where did the song title come from? I’ll let you guys figure that out. Anyways, the apple in tree in our garden has been a permanent feature of the house during our several years here. Like duh, Darren. Like the apple tree was going to uproot itself and wander off in night.
But you get what I mean, no? For me, that tree is a remarkable calendar for the year. When the branches are bare, it must be January and time for me to cut them back while I still can. If the leaves are budding, it must be March. When the blossom arrives it’s April and May. When the first fruits start to fall it is July and by the time August and September has arrived the garden is littered with windfall. The leaves disappear by October and the whole process starts again.
I know it sounds mawkish and sentimental but I am going to miss that apple tree. When we arrived, the apples were bitter and almost inedible. You could make a pie from them if you used lots of sugar, but that’s about it. The fruit was small and unappealing. A couple of years ago, I said that the fruit was reaching maturity and had started to sweeten. Last year, the apples were a lot better and this year you can pick them off the tree and eat them fresh. It’s taken us several years for us to benefit from the fruit and now we are leaving. I wish I could take the tree with me, but obviously I can’t. So I am collecting seeds with the intention of growning my own apple tree and planting it at the new house to possibly mark the birth of our baby.
Today, despite the rain and general misery brought on by the black and overcast skies, we agreed that a nice apple pie would raise the spirits and so we ventured into the garden and the heavily pregnant Missus gathered some fruit, while I captured the event on videotape. Inside, I peeled and cored the apples and prepared my pastry, filling the dish with pastry then fruit, sprinkling sugar and cinnamon before trapping the contents inside with a pastry hood. I decorated the top with a little pastry apple symbol, which looked more like a fat man mooning at me. All the while, the Missus was acting all Steven Speilberg and videoing me in action.
The subsequent pie was delicious and one day I might just get around to editing that video and showing you exactly how you turn apples from the tree into a tasty pie…

« »