Good things
And so my thoughts turn to the rituals that made growing up a bit more magical. The first thing I'm looking forward to introducing to my son? The Apple Harvest Festival in Pennsylvania was one of those yearly rituals in my family. I'm looking forward to introducing my son to the fun this year. Considering how uncertain the future is right now, both personally and in the world's scheme of things, it's a comfort to have these things to look forward to.
Apple butter. As a kid, it was hard to convince me and my cousins to try it: dark, almost black, and thick but grainy, not smooth and shiny and bright like jams and jellies. But my Grandma made such a big, happy noise about it every time she took a bite, we all had to try it, too. Soon, we were all making big, happy noises every time the old-fashioned Mason jar of ooey gooey goodness came out of the fridge.
I don't think you can buy commercial apple butter, at least, not at your local Safeway supermarket, that's for sure. Perhaps the organic food stores carry it now. We would just stock up on the stuff every time we traveled to Pennsylvania -- family reunion, Hershey's Park, and the Apple Harvest Festival. Stop at some Amish store along the way and buy the hand-canned, home made butter, wrapped carefully for the car trips and nestled gently in some safe nook in my grandparent's not quite an Airstream trailer.
We'll pick up a jar of apple butter this year, along with a bushel of Jonagold apples. I've never tried the apple pizza, as I've always filled up on funnel cake instead. Perhaps this year I'll break out of the traditional pattern. But just a little bit.