Monday, October 3, 2011

Remembering Applesauce



The little boys visit Stuckey's Orchard.

Ever since I eyed a magazine spread on apple dishes, I've yearned to whip up a truly amazing fall apple concoction. This afternoon, fresh from the orchard, I eagerly entered the kitchen, ready to create.

I sprawled a bushel full of Cortland apples onto my kitchen counter. Then, I began making my very first batch of homemade applesauce. I peeled, chopped, boiled, and stirred. Still questions lingered about the recipe, so I phoned my chef-extraordinaire mother to gather a tad bit of cooking advice.

My mom answered my questions with great vigor, even jumping on the internet at times to gather more information. As we talked, she intersected cooking advice with personal memories. She reminisced about whipping up batches during my childhood. Then, she reflected on her grandmother's homemade applesauce. As she spoke, her tone grew softer, and I imagined she was being transported back into another kitchen and another era.

Homemade applesauce doesn't hold as strong memories in my childhood. But, my grandmother's homemade noodles remind me of Christmas gatherings with a whole cluster of family members. My mother's lasagna brings back fond childhood memories of special birthday celebrations. I smiled and pondered whether I could recreate these fine dishes for my family.

Then again, I'm not sure I want to mimic the flavor as much as the memories.



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